


The Runaway

by islandgirl_246



Series: Where Do We Run? [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Laura Hale, Alpha Peter Hale, BAMF Stiles, Banshee Lydia Martin, Beta Cora, Beta Derek Hale, F/F, F/M, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Werewolf Danny, Werewolf Sheriff Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9965018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandgirl_246/pseuds/islandgirl_246
Summary: When a lost young girl turns up on the Hale’s doorstep in Beacon Hills, scared and with a photo of Peter, it seems like he has a daughter he’s never known of. Everything about her story seems so farfetched, yet Peter is inclined to believe it, something in him believes. Stiles isn’t so sure because when asked for details about her mother, the girl doesn’t remember, and interestingly enough, she’s the one person that’s totally unreadable to Stiles. Is her story true and does his mate have a teenaged daughter no one knew about? And how do they deal with it as more supernatural packs are being attacked and abducted by wolves they still can’t track and like this new girl – that Stiles can’t sense?





	1. Too Many Questions

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, this is the final instalment in the series where both packs come together to fight another big bad though we don’t know who that will be yet. Chapter’s not very long but let the mystery begin.  
> (not a very long chapter - not been a good writing day for me, sorry)

“You’re simmering,” Peter whispered to Stiles who stood near the doorway into the library watching the scene unfold before him.

After the girl, Lia or Malia, _whatever her name was_ , dropped the bombshell that Peter might be her father, the rest of the Hales had quickly dragged the shivering, scared girl inside and Laura had proceeded to mother her within an inch of her existence. Stiles could understand it, sure he could. Given the Hales’ history of loss, family was sacred to all of them.

Stiles though, he didn’t know what the hell to feel about any of this. His lover, mate, partner, had a daughter that was closer to his own age than she was the toddler they’d been discussing about adopting before the latest crisis had reared its head. Now . . . now if Peter had a daughter whose life he had never been a part of, he wouldn’t take that easily, not at all. And what would be expected of Stiles? Was he supposed to be the happy step-daddy to a near grown ass woman?

A part of him wanted to rush in and help comfort her; the other part wanted to demand answers. Like why right now? Where had she been all this time? And could it possibly be not a coincidence that she showed up on the Hale’s doorstep with a picture of Peter in her pocket and a claim to amnesia of some kind? And why the fuck couldn’t Stiles read her. Everyone else was like an open book to him, just prod and everything spilled out. This girl was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. What was that about?

So yes, he was simmering. The fact that he could sense absolutely nothing, which had only happened once before – during his hunt for these mystery wolves who were killing, attacking and now taking prisoners of supernatural groups, had his Spider senses tingling. Stiles did not believe in coincidence.

“I am,” Stiles responded to Peter and turned away. He needed space. He needed to think.

When Peter turned to follow, John laid a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps you might want to stay and help us sort this out. I’ll go talk to Stiles.” John squeezed and moved off after his son.

++++++

Malia could not get her heart rate to slow down, and all the attention didn’t help. Everyone had come to her aid but the man she felt should have been front and centre. She glanced over and realised he was still standing with the strange young man who gave her the heebie jeebies. There was something in his eyes that was so keen and piercing, like he was looking for something. She had no clue what, but she knew he was not pleased with her sudden arrival.

“You must be hungry,” the woman, Laura, said moments before Malia’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t had a thing since last night. She’d been on her way to the diner this morning when her senses picked up a smell that spooked her. She couldn’t say why but when she saw the woman she bolted. Every instinct told her to run and that’s what she did.

She’d hid out for a while then made her way to Beacon Hills, to school, but when she got off the bus, there was the smell again, wafting down the street. So she’d headed for the woods, and spent the day nervous and out of her mind with fear. She’d tried talking herself down from two panic attacks, but then she’d felt a tingle of danger run up her spine and without stopping to ask why she’d begun running again. She’d learnt not to question it when her senses sent out warning flares.

That’s how they’d got Hayden. The only thing she could remember was Hayden fighting as the van doors closed and the other wolves began chasing her. It was the only memory she had from before. That’d been five years ago. She didn’t even know where to begin looking for her friend.

“Malia?” Cora’s voice pulled her out of her daze. “Hungry?” she asked softly as if trying not to scare her.

All she could do was nod. Yeah, she could eat.

She looked up and watched the pale young man walk away and the Sheriff stop the man, Peter, from following. The man sighed before turning very blue eyes in her direction.

++++++

“Son? Wait up?” John jogged a bit to catch up with Stiles who was already halfway across the grounds headed for the Preserve.

Stiles exhaled and forced himself to stop. He really didn’t want company right now. Not just yet. Not while his emotions were in such turmoil.

“It’s ok not to like this, you know son,” John said, coming to a stop close to him. “But I don’t think that girl’s to blame for any of it. . . Neither is Peter. He didn’t know.”

“I don’t even know what I’m feeling dad. I want to believe that she just somehow believes he’s her father, and her claims that she doesn’t remember anything, but I don’t. We’ve got so much going on – the missing packs; the shit storm that just, just this minute blew up with Parrish’s father and you better believe that’s not the last we’re going to see of him. Hounds don’t forgive and they never forget. And now we’ve got some kind of what . . . runaway, stray girl or something in the midst of the Hale Pack . . .

“Dad, you’re the one who taught me not to believe in coincidence. So how is it that just like these animals we’re chasing that she gives off the very same signature. Every time I try to scan her I get nothing, and the Nemeta is giving me nothing to work with. Something’s happening dad and I’m scared that I won’t be able to save everyone this time,” Stiles ran an anxious hand through his hair.

“The Nemeton warned you about the hound. Why would it not warn you about these killings? Maybe it’s too far away?” there was hope in John’s voice.

“That’s just it dad, none of them sent out a flare. Not about the attacks and not about this girl crossing into Pack territory. It should have warned Laura that something had crossed the lines,” Stiles started pacing now. “I think I need to go out there and make sure the Nemeton is still ok. I need to refresh the runes at the county borders, I need to . . .” Stiles gasped and felt himself tremble.

John was suddenly there, pulling his shaking son into his chest. “Hey, hey. Take a deep breath.” The fact that his son was having a panic attack scare John more than anything else up to this point had. “Come on, kiddo. Breathe.”

Peter came rushing out of the house and down the steps to the back area where they were standing. “John?” Peter’s eyes were blood red and his claws were already out.

Stiles gasped and looked at his mate and felt fear chase up his spine again. _Something was coming, and it was coming for his mate._

++++++

Chris fired a shot and watched the wolf disappear into the distance. He rushed back to where Davis was trying to staunch the blood. The man’s hands were tacky with it as he tried to hold Steven’s throat together and not panic. He raised panicked and fearful eyes to Chris, shaking his head. They both knew it was no use. The hunter was already dead.

“Dammit!” Chris exploded, as two other hunters rushed to where they were.

“They ran off, Chris,” Emmerson said, looking at where their colleague had fallen. “Shit!” he said passionately.

“What the fuck were those things? Cause those weren’t normal werewolves. Not like any we’ve ever seen,” Tina hissed.

“I have no idea, but whatever they were, this is bigger than us now,” he said and pulled his phone from his pocket to make a call.

++++++

“I said I was fine, Peter. Stop,” Stiles brushed the Alpha’s hands away.

“Your heart rate is still elevated,” Peter grated, angry and not sure why.

“My heart rate is always elevated,” Stiles rejoined.

“Son, could you try not to be a smart ass right now? You just had a panic attack out there. You haven’t had one of those since . . .” his dad trailed off.

“Since I woke up. I know.”

“Why now?” Peter asked, arms folded as he stood before his mate.

Stiles looked up and their eyes met. Their minds brushed and Stiles locked it down, and watched Peter take a physical step back as something resembling pain flashed across his face before he too scrubbed emotion from his face. Stiles couldn’t let him read what was in his head until he sorted it out. He knew Peter would think he’d somehow just rejected him, but right now he felt too raw and bruised to give comfort.

“Do you want me to go?” Peter asked as he swallowed.

“Peter . . .” and then his phone rang.

Stiles pulled his ringing phone from a pocket. “Hey Chris.”

“Stiles, what the hell’s going on?”

“We’ve got it under control here. So no need to worry.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Stiles slowed a bit and said equally slowly, “Beacon Hills. What are _you_ talking about?”

“Is something wrong at home?” he heard Chris’ heartbeat accelerate for a moment and knew he was thinking of his wife and daughter, as well as the Pack.

“Everything’s fine. Everyone’s safe. I promise,” he said, and heard the blip in his own heartbeat when his mind immediately turned to Peter’s daughter and the many unknowns surrounding her arrival. He looked up and realised that Peter heard it too. “What’s going on with you? Laura said you were called away on business.”

“We’re in the mountains up Mongolia. Stiles, we were just attacked by werewolves. One of my guys is dead.”

“Shit, I’m sorry Chris.” Stiles frowned. _Another attack?_

“That’s not even the half of it. This thing had yellow eyes and was as big as Peter or Laura in Alpha form. We shot them several times and nothing happened, Stiles.”

Stiles went still as goosebumps rushed across his skin. “You shot it with the special stuff?” It was only after Gerard that hunters had found out the man had a stash of very powerful wolfsbane that was extremely deadly once a werewolf came into contact with it. Shot with it, the werewolf would have to cauterise the wound and clean it with similar wolfsbane within less than an hour to stand a chance of survival. Chris had been conflicted on whether to get rid of the damn thing until Stiles talked him out of it. It could come in handy still, he’d said. And Chris had taken some on this mission.

“We gave them everything we had Stiles and still they kept coming. As soon as we shot them the wounds healed. I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought for sure we were dead, then they stopped, like they’d heard something and ran off. What the fuck is going on, Stiles,” Chris’ voice climbed.

“I wish I knew, Chris. Are you ok though?”

“A few bruises but the rest of us will live. You may need to inform the Council. We came up here to investigate rumours of rogue wolves. There’s a pack up here that’s been living pretty much off the grid. Some of them have gone missing. The pack just woke up one morning and they were gone, and since then there’ve been reports of attacks in the area. We came to check it out. I think the ones that attacked us were the missing ones. One had a scar across the face that is in the details we’ve managed to piece together about the missing.

“The pack itself isn’t much help. They don’t trust us and that’s understandable, but if they’ve got members up here that are this out of control . . . and Stiles, these things are fast and agile like no werewolf I’ve ever seen.” Chris shook his head.

“Patch up your wounded. I’ll inform Laura and Peter, and Chris, for God sake stay safe.”

“I’ll try but I have a feeling that’s not up to me.”

The hunter hung up and Stiles felt a weight settle on his shoulders. After Kate and Gerard were executed Chris had considered continuing a life free of the old hunter ways. Despite Gerard’s lies about trying to bring his son back into the fold, Chris was quite prepared to continue running his weapons business with the hunter lifestyle firmly behind him. But the disasters that had followed the revelations about what his father was really after had rocked the Argent family. Some of the old hunters had reached out to try to mend fences, after all every supernatural now knew the Argent name if they didn’t before and the family reputation was in the mud.

Seemed the French leaders were more progressive than Chris ever thought they could be, and they’d begun a campaign of wooing him, with promises that things could change. Those who didn’t like the new direction were disavowed by the family as a show of faith to Chris and his new family and pack. The Argents were smart. They knew survival meant adapting to the new reality – one in which the Prince would not hesitate to destroy anyone out to harm what he considered his, and Chris, his wife and daughter were now firmly on that list.

So Chris, after a long meeting with Stiles, Laura and Peter had agreed to begin retraining those who wanted to be trained. Victoria took over the weapons business in Beacon Hills and Chris sometimes held training camps in a hidden area – thanks to Stiles and the Nemeton – outside Beacon Hills. His reputation was growing and it looked like he would be soon become the western head of the Argent empire. Gerard was no doubt rolling in his grave, a thought that made Stiles smile every time.

But Chris’ new duties meant he could be called away ever so often if the hunters thought his skill, experience and advice was needed. Clearly this was one such case and it gave Stiles chills to think about what they’d found.

 _What the fuck was going on in the world?_ These wolves were now popping up everywhere and with no warning. He needed to commune with the Nemeta, and they’d better answer his questions. He was sick of getting there too late and with no warning whatsoever. _How could he get a warning about Aviur and not about wolves attacking communities? It made no sense._

He hung up and glanced at Peter. “I think we have a problem.”

The troubles were mounting and with no solutions in sight. And Stiles hated it.


	2. We're More Than This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Peter try to sort out just what the hell is going on in their own relationship, as Stiles is forced to admit that he wasn’t prepared to think of Peter with someone else. Meanwhile, Chris has challenges of his own keeping his hunters in check as Victoria is forced to take a stance at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be quite honest this has been a hard one to write. I started it before WANT, but shit happened. My time lately hasn’t been my own and I’ve been so swamped that I found myself in the past 2 weeks faced with two separate anxiety attacks that almost floored me, and maybe that’s more personal than you want to know or I intended to share.   
> So this chapter was written as a means of “self-care”, and if it’s not what you expected on starting the chapter, I’m sorry, but please know that this week’s writing especially is just for me – hence the title of the chapter.

Peter was propped up against the bed head, a book in his lap and two others splayed out across the sheets, reading and taking notes. “I’ve filed for a leave of absence. The head of department wasn’t thrilled about it, but I told him I had a family emergency out of town, so I think they’ll accept it for now,” he said without looking up. “I also spoke to Boyd and Erica, they’re going to try to keep everyone calm until we know more about what’s happening. They’ve also doubled the patrols.”

Stiles sat on the edge of the bottom of the bed. “Good. Boyd will take care of things and we’ll keep checking in periodically. And you shouldn’t worry too much about your classes. They wouldn’t want to lose you. Even with the break you took after Laura became Alpha, your courses still have the highest registration rates and the longest waiting list in the entire campus. Any other university would snap you up in a heartbeat and they know that. They’d be foolish to lose you. I didn’t even know courses could have waiting lists until you.”

“Hmmm,” was Peter’s only comment, he was still smarting from everything that’d happened earlier.

“Are you ever going to look at me?” Stiles asked softly and watched as Peter’s pen slowed to a halt. But it still took a few moments before his head slowly raised and he met Stiles eyes. Stiles’ chest remained tight until their gazes clashed, and even then the tension didn’t abate. He swallowed.

Peter’s eyes were steady, serious . . . and guarded. It wasn’t a look with which Stiles was familiar. Even when they’d had their challenges before, it had always been with an open quality between them aimed at finding a solution, at restoring the equilibrium. This was . . . different.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but still the pain didn’t recede.

“For what exactly,” Peter asked in a tight voice with a slight raise of his brow.

“You’re going to make me say it, that I was wrong, that I was unfair?”

Peter sighed. It was a tired sound and one Stiles wished he was not the cause of. “Stiles, it’s only been little more than a day since we found out about Malia and already I feel like you’re somehow punishing me for her existence. I never thought this would be us. I had no idea I had gotten any of my past lovers pregnant since none ever reached out to inform me, but nevertheless, I would have sworn to anyone that if this situation ever arose, you would have my back. For the first time since we’ve known each other, I don’t know that to be true. And it hurts, Stiles.

“I’m not angry because you don’t know what to make of this. We’re pretty much in the same boat in that respect, but your response has been to shut me out, completely. And that I can’t deal with. I don’t know how to deal with that.” Peter admitted.

Stiles felt small, and for the first time since their relationship begun, he began to question if there wasn’t too big a gap in their ages and maturity. He was feeling petty in a way he never had before.

“I love you, Peter. That hasn’t changed.” At his quiet words, Stiles saw the flicker of something in his partner’s eyes. He dropped his gaze to his lap for a moment, examining his fingers. Fingers that wove magic with so little effort, but fingers that couldn’t now easily patch this rift between them. “I don’t blame you for Malia. I know you and I know there’s no way you could have a daughter out there alive and not want to know her; not feel responsible for her. It’s just who you are. But I don’t know where I fit here. She’s old enough to be a sister to me, certainly not young enough to be a step-daughter and added to all this I don’t trust her.”

“You don’t know her,” Peter said simply and if Stiles had been standing his legs would have gone a little weak. It was true, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“I can’t read her,” he confessed in a small voice. “At all.”

Peter’s brows went up and he set aside the pen and notepad, shifting a little and tilting his head at his mate. “Before you had your gift, your power – before the Council, you were not so jaded and judgemental about people. When we met, you learned to trust your instincts again and they didn’t steered you wrong, especially not with us. When did that change? Why does having the powers you do mean that simple instincts no longer apply? Does your gut tell you she’s evil or there’s any reason to fear her, other than the fact of you not wanting to be stepdad?”

“Peter, I didn’t say I didn’t want to be stepdad to your daughter,” Stiles alarmed. _But wasn’t that true? Wasn’t that the crux of the matter right now? The fact that he was discomforted with serving as stepdad to an unknown when they had only months before been planning on starting their own adoptive family._

“Actually you did. And you have every time you see her and walk out of the room, or refuse to engage her in conversation or the million endless questions I expected you to ask but you haven’t. Rather, you’ve decided to paint her as the devil and to want to have nothing to do with her.”

“Now that’s not fair,” he complained.

Peter’s eyes dropped, and it hurt. Because it might not be fair, but it was true. “No, Stiles. What’s not fair is my mate blaming me for an illegitimate child I had no idea about. What’s not fair is my mate not trusting me enough for us to talk about this like two adults who love and care for each other, and to come to a decision about it. What’s not fair is my mate making my daughter feel unwelcomed, while she’s battling fear, confusion and isolation, while coming to terms with what she is and a huge missing chunk of her memory.”

Shame engulfed Stiles and he saw Peter wrinkle his nose as he too picked up on the scent.

They lapsed into a heavy and pregnant silence. Peter reached out and reclaimed the books he’d set aside a moment ago, and Stiles was at a loss as to how to mend the rift.

++++++

Malia woke up with a scream strangling for release in her throat and her heart pounding with the flight adrenaline. The dream was a mere wisp of smoke, the edges blurred and the content just out of reach. Why couldn’t she remember anything but the fear? That damn debilitating, overwhelming feeling of fear that engulfed her whenever she laid to rest and woke up choking on the dregs of dreams she could never recall. She was exhausted, so damn tired, of not sleeping, of feeling like the outsider, of watching her presence rip a relationship apart, because she had no doubt things were rocky between Peter and Stiles. And the guilt, oh the guilt that brought.

She threw back the wet bedsheets and proceeded to strip the bed. Each time she woke from her nightmares she found her bed soaked with her restless sweat and reeking of despair. She stripped and headed for the in-suite bathroom to shower the scent away from her body. On the way she passed a mirror and saw the yellow glow to her eyes. She ducked her head, short bob brushing her cheeks and hiding her face as she moved on to the shower.

She needed to call Harriet. The woman would no doubt panic if she didn’t hear her soon. She was the closest she had to a mother ever since she was found simply wandering six years ago, with fragments of memories and in tattered clothing. There had been no missing report with her face out there. Her fingerprints came back empty, and there was no birth certificate with the name Malia Tate on it.

It had taken more than a year to piece some of her memories back together and to realise she had a avaricious appetite for learning. She caught up quickly and although she graduated high school a year later than she would have under normal circumstances, she’d been able to actually start considering colleges.

Then the name Beacon Hills had popped up in one of her searches for colleges. It was an obscure college but something about the name forced her to keep returning to it again and again. And then her nightmares started. The psychologist had her write down everything she could remember on waking, which wasn’t much until she recalled someone in her dream mentioning the words Beacon Hills. She’d known she had to go. Her mother/caretaker had been scared but Malia was old enough now to make some of her own decisions. Plus she was just so damn tired of not knowing. So she’d enrolled in the obscure college.

The night she was packing, Harriet had walked in with that guilty look on her face, clutching a brown envelope to her chest. It was then she’d confessed that when she’d been found, Malia had been clutching something in her fist. It was a photo with the name Peter Hale scribbled on the back in childish writing.

“I did some digging and he’s a professor at Stanford, but there’re Hales in Beacon Hills and I think they may be his relatives. The university bio says he’s from Beacon Hills. Not much is known about the family, but it may be a place to start.”

Malia stood in the shower now remembering how she’d been overwhelmed at the time and had broken down crying and Harriet had held her through the night, and again later when the nightmares came. She’d use her time at Beacon Hills College to investigate these Hales. It just so happened that when she got to the campus she first heard the name Cora Hale, and it had started there.

After the hot shower that seemed to settle her shaking a bit, Malia changed the sheets, dumping the old ones into the basket Cora had indicated was for her laundry when the girl had loaned her the sleeping clothes, before the Sheriff had gone to her rental in Sypris and returned with more of her possessions. He’d promised that she was safe here, and with all the wolves and other beings about she did feel safe, at least until her eyes landed on the pale one. He made her nervous more than anyone else.

She changed into her own clothes and sat on her bed. She was nervous about venturing downstairs and felt a knot form in her stomach. She started the deep-breathing the psychologist had taught her, trying to dispel the sudden anxiety, but it just got worse. _Breathe, Mali, breathe!_ Harriet’s words echoed in her head as she recalled the numerous times the woman was the one to pull her out of a nightmare, but this time the memory failed to have the usual effect.

She doubled over as images rolled through her mind. This was a new development, the visions while she was awake – _red eyes, always the red eyes_. She gasped. _Come on!_ She swallowed the knot in her throat with difficulty and felt tears spring to her eyes. She was so damn tired of the tears. A light knock sounded on the door and she wanted to call out but she couldn’t breathe, she simply couldn’t breath as the images assaulted behind her lids.

She vaguely heard the door opening, mixing with the sound of cloth ripping as her claws dug into the sheets in an attempt to ground herself. Within moments there were warm hands on her arms, then shortly thereafter on her face and someone urgently coaxing her through deep breaths. She dragged air in. It burned but not as badly as not breathing at all.

“That’s it. Again,” the voice said and the urgency in the timber of the voice helped. She listened and tried to ground herself in that instead. Usually it was Harriet that talked her down from these attacks. Every time one came on she had Harriet on speed dial. It was why her cell phone was like an extra appendage to her.

The air smelled vaguely of electricity, but she breathed again and it got easier as her vision started to focus. “You’re doing well. So well. That’s it.”

She felt her chest calm and her head start to clear, and instead of the harrowing images, she began to see trees, a field, bright flowers dancing in fresh breeze as it seemed something was beating the images back. She glanced up, looking into the face of Stiles, Peter’s partner. She frowned at him, “How?” she breathed on an exhale.

“I have no idea,” Stiles said, eyes glowing purple as wonder tinted his words. “I’ve never seen anything like that, but for now just breathe.”

Stiles was crouched at eye-level. Then he got up and took a seat on the bed next to her. Stiles was confused. He didn’t understand how he couldn’t sense her, but at a single touch he was in her head and able to chase away the awful visions that had been swirling there.

“You’re ok now?”

She nodded and felt a cool glass pressed into her hands. Glancing up she realised Peter was also there, a look of concern on his face. “Sorry,” she whispered, ashamed that they’d seen her break down that way. She sipped from the glass slowly as her hands still shook slightly.

“How often do you have dreams . . . visions like that?” Stiles asked when she’d calmed down enough.

“Often enough, but usually I don’t remember anything about them other than feeling scared, and red eyes. I don’t even know what the dreams are about,” she confessed, and that was the hardest part, to be terrified of something and not know what.

“Do they happen when you’re awake like that or usually in sleep?”

She frowned as she looked at him, “Both?” She breathed deep again. “Lately they’ve been more frequent than any time before. I don’t know what’s causing it.” She looked at the strange young man. “You saw it? What I was seeing.”

“Yeah, but I don’t understand it yet. Usually I’m able to tell what people are thinking, though I try not to because, you know. With you, I get absolutely nothing, or at least I didn’t until I touched you.”

“What’s it mean?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

++++++

Peter had watched a dejected Stiles leave their room, unsure if he should just let his partner, his lover just walk away, or try to thrash this out some more. He was annoyed, angry and hurt, but that’d never stopped them communicating with each other before.

He tried to return to his research, trying to find out under what circumstances a regular beta could present as an Alpha, including size, and speed. So far he’d found obscure references, but nothing that really explained what Chris had described, but he’d keep looking. Research was where he excelled, was why he was so good at teaching History. He thrived on knowing things.

Realising he would get nothing done, he tossed the books aside and left the bed. He’d help with breakfast and maybe that would settle his restlessness. But then he’d opened his door and heard Stiles’ voice whispering reassuringly and smelled Malia on the verge of panic. He’d rushed to the bedroom to watch as Stiles talked her down from some kind of attack, heard the gasp as the man took her face in his hands and saw Stiles go rigid. He’d moved forward then not sure if he should do something, then Stiles’ posture eased and Malia began to breathe easier.

Trying to make himself useful he’d gone to the bathroom to fill the glass on the sink with water. Coming back he’d pressed the glass into her hand and shared a brief glance with Stiles as their minds brushed, transferring information in a way that had always been comfortable between them. He then understood what Stiles had done. A warmth infused his chest as he recalled the argument they’d had just moments ago. This was the Stiles he knew and had fallen in love with.

Now they needed to figure out why his daughter was dreaming of wolves, these murderous wolves that were wrecking havoc across the planet. And who the girl was that they’d seen strapped to the table in the vision Stiles had pulled from Malia’s mind. If these were the dreams she was having, Stiles might have been right in assuming it all was too much of a coincidence. Could she have been sent by someone to somehow derail their investigation or as an in with the pack?

Now he had questions too.

++++++

Chris felt like putting a bullet in the man. At the very least, beating him to a pulp. This was why he’d wanted to get away from hunters. They could be the most stupidly stubborn people he knew. He’d had to report what had happened in the mountains to the main arm of the Argent clan who’d engaged his services after all. Despite the fact that he operated semi-independently at the moment, it had been the main arm that had asked him to lead this mission, or rather this investigation. So when one of their own had been killed and another injured he’d had no choice but to report in. Then came the bullshit he’d erased from his life.

Within 12 hours four more hunters had arrived, these led by a hard-ass. He’d hoped he’d never have to interact with Rick again in this life. Despite reportedly “embracing the new ways”, Chris knew that man was more prone to act hastily, especially if it meant killing wolves. He was one of the best the Argent family still had, and Chris was certain the man’s change of heart to the “new ways” was only smoking mirrors.

So when Rick had arrived with three others and proceeded to behave as if even the peaceful supernaturals in the area were to blame for Steven’s death, it had raised all of Chris’ alarms. The last thing they needed was for this to turn into more of a bloodbath than it had any reason to be. They’d come to high words about Rick’s questioning of the local pack before the man had called him an animal lover and stalked off. Only one other seemed to share Rick’s views on eliminating any vaguely suspicious werewolves – a fact that Chris was all too thankful for.

Right now he just needed to talk to his family, clear his head before he did something he couldn’t take back. Like accidentally misfire his weapon into Rick’s chest.

Victoria answered on the second ring. “Hi honey!” she said, genuine pleasure in her voice.

“It’s so good to hear your voice.” Chris said, feeling the tension leak out of his shoulders. “How’s Ali?

“She’s good. We’re both good.”

“Stiles said something’s been happening?” he queried.

“Yeah, but nothing you need to worry about now. John stopped by earlier to brief us on what’s happening and Laura called already to check in this morning. Stop worrying, Christopher, we’re fine. Ali’s gone off to work.”

“Nothing on Boston?”

Vicky sighed. “She’s still avoiding talking about it, but I’m not about to force her to go off to university. She’s an adult now and old enough to decide for herself.”

“I’m worried about how much of that decision is because of a certain wolf.”

“Nothing we can do about it. She’s determined to stand by Scott and he has been trying Chris. Would I rather our daughter fall in love with a boring old regular accountant, yes, absolutely. But she’s going to be involved in this whether we want her to be or not. The most we can do is make sure she goes into it with both eyes open and the knowledge that we will always have her back when anything happens.”

“Intellectually I know what you’re saying makes sense. It’s just that I wanted her life to be so much easier than ours, Vick,” he sighed.

“Enough about Ali. What’s this about an attack up there?”

“We lost one,” he said, sad again, “and they sent Rick.”

“Shit!” his wife said with feeling.

“Exactly. I can handle him, don’t you worry.”

“I’m more concerned about you putting a bullet in the prick at the moment than in handling whatever else is up there.” Vicky’s accurate assessment of the situation forced a chuckle from Chris.

“I’ve already had that debate with myself. I promise not to kill him unless I absolutely have to. The Council is sending someone today. I think things will be easier when they arrive.”

“Ok, just stay safe, my love. From what I’m hearing these animals aren’t to be toyed with.”

“I know. I’m coming home to you, I promise. How’s the business?”

Victoria paused and forced more cheer into her voice. “Things are ok. Just take care of you out there. I’ve got things covered here. I love you, Christopher.”

“I love you too, Victoria. I will call you tomorrow if I can. Give Ali my love.” And he hung up.

She returned the phone to its cradle wondering if she had erred in not telling him about the most recent challenges to business. Someone was undercutting them. So far she was missing two crates from the most recent shipment, crates with wolfs bane, flash-bang grenades, and a UV formula that was still in the testing phase. She had her suspicions and had already asked Peter to stop by this morning.

She didn’t understand why people thought a woman managing a weapons business would be sloppier in her checks and balances than a man would, or know less than her male counterpart about what was supposed to be where. If they thought she was a snowflake, they obviously had not done their research and she would do nothing to tip them off until she was ready to rip their spleens out.

You didn’t fuck with an Argent and remain standing. She’d have to remind them of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe we made some progress this week, maybe not. . . But here’s hoping you enjoyed the read. I’ll try to return to regular updates in a week's time as I'm travelling for work on Sunday, hence my scramble to finish this chap. Catch ya on the flip...


	3. Wrong Footed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Malia have a heart to heart; Stiles is summoned while Eric’s grandfather - Eugene - is sent to investigate the hunter death by werewolf, and Victoria flexes her muscle with consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll start with an apology. I went off the writing grid with this fic for a while. My life almost literally went to hell, and then when I thought I was picking up again and managed to write something (“WANT”) I fell ill, and am actually only now recovering. So I lay/sat on Friday and began writing again.
> 
> It’s amazing how much a kind comment can lift and inspire you when you are down in the doldrums. So revolution_starter; Jilrene; flowerpotgirl – thank you!

The last person Malia expected to bring relief in her time of need was Stiles Stilinski. She’d been certain the young man hated her and really she couldn’t blame him. She would too if she was the one in his place. It couldn’t be easy knowing your lover had a child out there with someone else, and then to have that child just show up out of the blue with no clue she even exists. She’d overheard one of the pack mentioning that Stiles had been bitten with the parenting bug while looking after his own goddaughter who was part of their pack in Stanford.

And now she’d come along with her lack of memory and fears and spoiled all that. _How could she?_

Malia still didn’t know how she’d made the leap of certainty that the man in that photo was her father. She’d already told Laura she thought they should do whatever tests were necessary to either confirm or disprove what at this point was still largely supposition. Besides, she’d rather know for sure, and today was the day.

Malia had been in a few conversations with Peter before, but this, right here, was the first time Stiles had voluntarily addressed her and once the questions started it seemed like the dam had been open. He wanted to know how long she’d been having dreams; if she’d had contact with werewolves before the Hale family; how much of her previous life she remembered and how much “Harriet” knew about the supernatural and whether they could contact her for more information.

Then he’d touched her again and smiled, reporting that he could hear her thoughts and see what she was thinking. When he’d asked about the girl in her dreams/visions, Malia had drawn a blank.

“Girl?”

And Stiles had somehow broadcast the vision of the struggling girl back to her and Malia had burst into tears. _It was Hayden, her friend Hayden. Oh God, Hayden! What was happening?_ And again Stiles had been the one to comfort her as she told of remembering Hayden being dragged into a van but nothing immediately before or after that. She didn’t know where they’d met, she just had a clear picture in her head of them eating ice cream and giggling like fools as the hot sun melted it down their hands, dripping off their elbows and her shoving the girl playfully and calling her Hayden. But she was sure Hayden was her friend. If she concentrated hard enough she’d get flashes of them together over the years, but that always resulted in a pounding migraine and a pinching at the back of her neck.

She’d told this to Stiles then, and watched as he and Peter exchanged another one of their silent looks that seemed to say so much, but exactly what she still had no clue. She told them how when Harriet had searched for a Malia Taitt in the databases – since she was a data analyst in Napa Valley – and nothing came up, Harriet had also done a search for any missing girls named Hayden or Haydn or any variation of the spelling and found nothing.

Not knowing where she’d come from, Malia didn’t know where to suggest they begin looking and so for six years she tortured herself with the knowledge that her friend had been kidnapped with no idea who she was or where she was or where she’d been taken from. She’d tried to give a description to a sketch artist once, but yet again nothing but foggy features and a migraine. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t bring a clear enough picture to describe.

“You think this has something to do with the wolves you’re hunting don’t you?” Malia asked once she’d calmed down again.

“Yeah, I do,” Stiles had responded. “The wolves in your head behave similar to the ones we’ve been chasing. And just like them, I couldn’t read your emotions or thoughts when we first met.”

“And you thought I was somehow involved because of that?” Malia’s voice shook a bit as she asked the question. “You still think I’m involved,” she said with a certainty not sure she want to look at Peter just then, though her eyes betrayed her and darted to the older man. “I don’t blame you. Maybe you shouldn’t trust me.”

“Malia, we’re not sure of anything right now, but we’ll try as much as we can to find out who you are and where your friend is. I promise you that,” Stiles tried to reassure.

Stiles heard the lack of conviction in his own voice and felt a rush of care from his bond with his mate. At least Peter had more faith in him than he had in himself just now. He squeeze Malia’s hands. “You want to go down to breakfast? You’ve got some doctor appointments later this morning.”

“I think I need a few minutes first . . .?” her voice rose slightly on the last word, and Stiles nodded.

“We won’t be far.” He stood, walking to his mate and laying a hand over Peter’s beating heart. It felt calming, reassuring, and was just what he needed, in light of the insistent pull he could feel from the Queen.

“You’re being summoned.” Peter said, as he felt the tingle in their bond.

“Yes, but we need to talk first. I can’t leave things like this,” he rested a palm against Peter’s cheek. His mate nodded, turned to Malia with a short nod as well and took Stiles’ hand, drawing him back to their room.

Peter sat on the bed, pulling Stiles next to him. “What was it you didn’t want me to see before? When you shut me out?” he asked and Stiles heart hit a quick rhythm before he could think to stop it. “Yes, that’s exactly what I talking about.”

Stiles paused to take a breath before he answered as honestly as he could. “I think the Nemeton is trying to send me a warning, and I think it’s a warning for you. When I had that . . . that panic attack out there I felt for a moment that all this, whatever is happening is a threat – to you Peter, but I don’t understand it and I don’t know how to protect you from it.”

“Why would you think you’re my keeper?” Peter asked in a soft voice so Stiles wouldn’t take it for censure. “In this relationship, we’re partners, equal partners, Stiles. You may be more powerful than I am, but Stiles you can’t keep things from me and try to deal with them on your own. It’s not who we are together.”

“You’re right, I know you’re right. I just don’t know anything right now, Peter. The wolves, Malia, Danny and Jordan and his dad, this woman who’s chasing Malia and claiming to be her mother, which would make her a former lover of yours, the Council . . . it’s just . . .” his breathing stuttered.

Peter ran calm hands up his arms, bringing them to bracket his face. “Breathe, hun. That’s why you have us here, Stiles, so you don’t have to go it alone. Together we’re a pretty formidable force – wolves, vampires, hounds, fairies, hunters, the Realm . . . Who in their right minds would want to go up against all that?”

“Ok, ok.” He nodded, and the pressure in his chest eased a bit. Sometimes he forgot he did not have to do everything himself. It wasn’t an issue of trust, it was an issue of love and protecting those he cared for.

“Now about Malia, and Chris, I’m going to ask Maria to come up to stay with Malia a while until we find out more about this Heather surrogate mom character. Right now I don’t think we should depend too much on anyone outside the packs and our closest allies. I’ll ask Braeden to look into Heather and Malia’s background . . . or rather mine, and this woman calling herself her mother. I need to trace my history from New York to here.”

“You know if she’s really your daughter, she’s older than she thinks she is.” Stiles interjected.

“It’s crossed my mind. And I’ll contact Chris after I’ve seen Victoria this morning. I need to call her to let her know I’m running late.”

“Ok, sounds like a plan. No stone unturned?”

Peter nodded, “No stone unturned,” and pecked Stiles’ lips quickly. “You have to go, I felt that second summons as well. Please be careful. I won’t live without you.” Peter pressed another kiss to his lip and when Stiles opened his mouth, it was another minute or two before the two could separate.

“I love you,” Stiles said before he disappeared.

Peter got out his phone to call home, and then to call Victoria.

++++++

Maria shoved another jacket into the bag. “I swear if I come back and anything’s broken, I will eat you alive,” she said, trying to ignore the slight shake in her hand at the thought of going to stay in Beacon Hills for a while. Snark helped.

“Psssh! Be quiet woman. I’ve got this. The store’s in good hands,” Chase said, trying to go with the humour she was trying to inject.

When she took another pair of jeans, stuffed them into the bag before removing them and exchanging them for what looked like an identical pair, Chase couldn’t take it anymore. “You need to calm down. You’re going to be fine.”

Maria dropped the clothes in her hand on the bed next to her duffle. “What if she doesn’t want me there?”

“Things have been good between you two right? Calm. You’re talking, you’ve graduated to flirting again; why wouldn’t she want to see you?”

“We’re good from afar, but once we’re in each other’s face every day. I don’t know Chase . . .”

“Part of your problems was that you were never around. Never seemed like you wanted to go see her in Beacon Hills. Now you are voluntarily going there. That’s progress. If while you’re there you decide to seduce a certain banshee, it can only be a continuation of what you’re building up to. And I won’t tell,” Chase smirked.

She smacked him with a pillow. “Idiot. I’m going at the request of my Alpha. What if she sees that as evidence that she didn’t mean enough?”

“Nonsense. You’ve cleared that up. You know where each other stands now; don’t go doubting yourself. You’re dealing with your past and there’s still love there between you and Lydia, lots of it. Remember that. Now go help the coyote, and be careful.”

“Thanks, Chase.”

“Anytime, sis.” He moved in to hug her, something that was becoming easier to do the past few months. Baring her past and her soul to Lydia has had very positive results indeed. Chase just prayed this new Maria would hold up to what she was about to face.

++++++

“Boyd, babe. This is nuts. I don’t need a chaperone.” Erica complained. Eyes catching Braeden coming down the stairs, she sought reinforcement. “Hey, Bee, please tell my Neanderthal, I am perfectly capable of dropping the twins to school, going to work and getting home without issue.” She cocked a hand on her hip, head tossing in annoyance.

“Can’t,” Braeden said as she grabbed her jacket and turned to accept her bag from Derek. “He’s right. Right now we’ve gotta watch each other’s back until we know what the hell is going on. Derek will drive you guys.” She turned and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Be careful,” he murmured.  “Let me grab some shoes and I’ll be ready,” the beta said to Boyd heading toward the rear of the house and ruffling Alex’s hair as he as he passed one of the twin.

“Hey!” Alex said, but there was a small smirk on his lips.

“But you’re going off alone. How’s that fair?” Erica griped, glancing at her watch. She was meeting a client at 8 and at this pace running a bit late.

“Simple, I’m enough protection all by my lonesome,” Braeden grinned, smacking a mocking kiss to Erica’s cheek as she passed.

The attorney breathed out and lightly scented the mercenary as she walked pass with a small backpack and in her riding leathers.

“Be careful, Braeden,” Boyd called after her, eyes still hard on his recalcitrant mate.

“Always, Vern.” The door slammed behind her and Boyd grimaced at the nickname with which the mercenary was a little bit too comfortable. A nickname which those two scamps – the twins Aliss and Alex had taken up as well to tease him.

But he stepped forward to scent his mate and allowed their daughter, Evie who’d been perched on his hip to climb into her momma’s arms. “Until Peter and Stiles have a handle on this thing, we’re all being extra careful. Besides, Derek has to do the supermarket run. He can follow you guys to see you off and run by the store.”

“I’ll go too,” Chase chimed in.

“Great!” Erica mumbled. “What about you? You’re here alone.”

“Ethan’s around. He’s taken the week. Get used to it, you stubborn woman. This is the new norm until our Alpha and Emissary say otherwise. Besides, it will ease Peter and Stiles’ minds to know we’re being careful. They don’t need the extra worry now.” He turned to the twin, “And you two, until we say otherwise, you will be dropped off and picked up from school. Stay together after hours until you’re collected.”

At that last bit of reason she calmed down a little. “Sorry, I just hate feeling like we’re sitting ducks here. Has Maria left?”

“About to!” the woman called from out of sight up the stairs. “I’ll call when I get there.”

“You sure driving is wise?”

“Yup! Wolves are land creatures. We were not meant to fly,” she called back.

Everyone downstairs shook their heads. _Not even going there._ Hugs and kisses were exchanged and the escort and shopping parties left.

Boyd smacked a kiss to Evie’s fat cheek as the girl kicked her legs to be let down. As soon as her feet hit the floor she was off and running. Boyd grinned knowing she would sniff out Ethan’s whereabouts in short order and force the wolf to play with her.

++++++

Eugene knelt by the wolf prints. They were indeed bigger than any he’d ever seen. “And you say your bullets did not work?”

“We already said that,” Rick said irritated.

Chris glared at the man and spoke more calmly. “The wounds just healed immediately. The bullets had no impact that we could see. Didn’t even slow them down.”

One of the other soldiers that had arrived with Eugene stepped forward, “Sir, we found a trail through the trees. We’re going to follow it.”

“Don’t go without me. Xander, I need you to go up to the pack and find out as much as you can. They need to talk to us, and we don’t have the luxury of fear clouding the way.” Eugene reached into his robes and pulled out a staff – from where, they had no idea. “Use this if you need to.”

The man, Xander’s eyes went wide. He swallowed and looked hesitant to take the item. “Won’t you need it, Sir? If you’re going after these wolves. In fact, I should be with you.”

Eugene smiled. “Just go, Xander. If I need it, I will call for it.” The man bowed, took the wooden rod with golden ends and bowed, then the group disappeared.

“What the hell is that thing?” Chris asked, looking at Eugene.

The High Chief smirked and shrugged, “My staff.”

“Smart ass,” Chris grumbled, and Eugene’s lips lifted slightly.

He heard a gasp from Rick, who’d still been asleep when the reinforcements had arrived and therefore had not seen the impressive entrance of the investigation team from the Realm. The soldiers of the Realm were seriously scary sometimes.

Chris should have let Rick go ahead and argue with the High Army’s Chief. At least then Chris would not have been the one to remove him from the earth.

“You coming, hunter?” and the team set off towards the trees where the wolves had disappeared, not waiting to see if Rick and his goons followed.

++++++

“Bitch, what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you know who you’re playing with?” the man sneered at her, pointing a gun from closer than she would have ideally liked.

“Who are you working for? That’s all I want to know and I will find out,” Victoria said, anger in her voice.

“Lady, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. He’ll kill you, and all you hold dear, happily. Or his animals will do it for him, and trust me when I say you don’t want to fuck with those things.”

Victoria’s eyebrows rose. _Animals? Why hadn’t she waited for Peter?_

Victoria was sure despite the knife she was slowly inching from her wrist beneath the cuffs of her long-sleeved blazer, that she couldn’t palm the weapon fast enough to take out the traitor and his counterpart before one of them killed her. One she could handle. Two, she wasn’t so sure.

Peter was supposed to have met her at the house half-hour ago, but had called to say he’d been delayed but was on his way. She’d told him to meet her at the warehouse instead. She however hadn’t told him she planned to confront these thieves, and she was sure while he was on his way, he was likely to arrive before this little confrontation went nuclear . . . _or was that nuclear-er? More nuclear . . .? Whatever, before she died._

The sound of an engine and slamming car door must have startled the two because they glanced in panic at each other and the next thing Victoria heard was a gun going off and felt a searing pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plan now is to see how much I can bang out this weekend, so I can resume Sunday updates. I am sorry for those who waited and may have gotten tired of waiting. Thanks if you’re reading this. 
> 
> The scenes kinda jumped around a lot this week. I’ll try not to be moving so all the time in the future chapters unless multiple action scenes are happening.


	4. Painful Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beacon Hills deals with the aftermath of Victoria’s shooting and Maria prepares to renew her friendship with Lydia.
> 
> ***Brief descriptive violence at the start***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to take it one scene at a time. And as promised I’m trying to also stick to a regular update schedule. If I’m able to accumulate more chapters that may change and I will then post more frequently.

Victoria felt the searing pain but managed to raise her arm, letting the knife fly. The last thing she heard was a roar from behind her and gurgling in front of her, before she tilted and fell.

Peter burst into the warehouse already half-shifted and smelling blood. He literally saw red when he realised the body on the floor was Victoria’s. One man was grasping his throat on the floor trying to staunch the blood flow from the knife sticking out of his gullet with his hands, while the other holding the weapon was simply staring at him. The man was leached pale and as Peter bound forward, he heard Victoria gasp and call his name. The man dropped the weapon, turned tail and ran.

Peter dropped to his knees beside the hunter, realising she was clutching just above her breast, but not quite her shoulder. “Let me see,” he rasped around pointy teeth concerned that it was too close to the heart. When she removed the hand they both grimaced at the blood and the damage the gun had done. Peter quickly shed his shirt, pressing it into the wound, while his other hand was already reaching for his phone.

“Peter, it's going to be ok.”

“No it's not, Victoria,” he argued, choked up and realising his hand was shaking as he was tossed into the past and the image of his wife bleeding out.

Stubbornly Victoria pressed, “You need to stop him. Catch him. He knows about the wolves. I’m certain,” she gasped in pain, gritting her teeth.

“I’m not leaving you here like this,” he grated at the stubborn woman who’d once been a close friend of his late wife’s.

“Catch him, Peter,” she grimaced. “We need . . . what he knows . . . don’t kill . . . him.”

“Dammit!” Peter growled at her and thrust his phone into her hand as a voice answered on the line. “Stay awake. John we need help! Chris’ warehouse, bring the paramedics,” he yelled, before instructing Victoria to, “Talk to John.” He set off at a lean pace, following the scent of fear and urine out the back of the warehouse. _He’d catch him alright!_ He had to return to Victoria quickly.

++++++

John’s siren was blazing, and some ways behind him, his handy werewolf hearing picked up the sound of the ambulance on its way. _What the hell had happened anyway? How had Victoria ended up shot?_

“Hang on Victoria! Stay with me,” he said into his cell which was presently on its speaker function. He’d refused to allow her to hang up as he’d rushed to the cruiser.

Chris would have their collective heads over this, and _shit, Allison_. He needed to call Allison as well to meet them at the hospital. Victoria’s silence only increased his fear. He pressed harder on the gas, blaring a horn at the startled cyclist who managed to ease back to safety as the Sheriff blew by.

++++++

“Please, please,” the man cowered with his back to the large tree trunk. “Don’t kill me. I swear, I did everything they asked. You’re not supposed to hurt us unless he says.” The man’s beady eyes travelled up and down Peter, obviously taking in the bloody clothing and convinced that the wolf had finished the job he’d started.

Peter quickly realised that the man didn’t know who he was, and furthermore possibly thought he was some other wolf. _Interesting!_

He walked right up into the man’s face, snarling and huffing for show, but he didn’t want the damn villain to suffer a heart attack before they could get the information they needed out of him. He grabbed him by the throat with a large clawed hand and squeezed just enough to cut off his airway. The man quickly slumped in his grip, unconscious. _Now what to do with him?_ He had to get back to the warehouse, but he also needed to question him.

He threw back his head and howled.

++++++

Parrish froze. He was patrolling before his afternoon shift at the station when Peter’s howl set his hairs on end. In a flash he was running through the woods in the direction of the sound. He didn’t have to turn to know that Eric was coming fast on his tail.

He allowed his nose to lead him, ears also picking up the sound of sirens, and the faint smell of blood in the air. _Dammit, just what the hound didn’t want, a bloody afternoon._ Because of a hound’s speed, he outpaced Eric in no time, but knew the shifter would follow his trail. In less than three minutes he was approaching a bloodied Peter, who shifted anxiously with a man crumpled at his feet. _Shit!_

Looking down at himself, Peter said, “Not what it looks like. Victoria’s been shot. This one here has information we need about the wolves. I need to get back but we need what he knows. I’ll explain everything else later.” Peter looked up as Eric arrived. The centaur was taking in the scene before him.

“Take this one back to the compound and sit on him. He sees no one, talks to no one but you until we get there,” Parrish told Eric. “I’m going with Peter back there to see about Victoria, she's injured, and possibly help John out. I can smell him up ahead.”

“One of you call ahead to Laura? Let her know what’s happening.” Eric said as he took the unconscious man.

“John might have already.” Peter said and he and Parrish rushed back to the warehouse.

++++++

“Peter went where?” John asked as the paramedic lifted an unconscious Victoria onto a stretcher.

“I’m here, John.” Peter jogged up to where a medic was securing Victoria to the stretcher. “She going to be ok?” he asked the closest woman.

“Blood pressure a bit low, and I don't like the look of this wound, and her pulse is thready. We need to move now. That other one’s not so lucky though.” The woman jerked her head in the direction of the body. “Sheriff, we need to get her to the hospital now.”

It really helped that most of Beacon Hills by now was in the know about the supernatural. Scenes like this, while not common, were more easily explained now, than before, although they were still careful with the wording of reports that had to be filed.

“Meet you there, Meredith. Want the boys to secure this scene first,” John said calmly to the young medic, even though his wolf wanted to whine and claw and tear for what was done to Victoria. Other deputies were already arriving on scene when John quickly whispered to Peter, “What happened here?”

“She confronted some suppliers that were skimming. She managed to kill that one, I chased the other,” Peter relayed, for John’s and Parrish’s ears only.

John’s eyes flashed and narrowed at his “son-in-law”. “Is that her blood or his?”

“Hers. _He_ is on his way to the Hales with Eric. We need to question him.”

“So he’s alive?”

Peter gave John a droll stare, as if the question was ridiculous. John sent him an equally unimpressed look. “He’s alive, John.”

“Sheriff?” one of the deputies came near, glancing suspiciously down at Peter’s bloody clothes.

“I was just asking Peter here to fill me in. Dennis, Mason, I want you at the hospital. One of you needs to have eyes on Mrs. Argent at all times, understood. You are stationed till I get there. No one you don’t know gets near her without one of you present and keep me informed about how she’s doing.” The two men nodded to their boss. Dennis, the cambion, was half shifted by the time they exited the warehouse, senses already tracking the ambulance.

“That still takes some getting used to,” one of the deputies said.

“Tell me about it,” John said, patting the officer on the shoulder. “Peter? Make it quick, then Anders here will take your statement.”

“She called me yesterday to say they were missing some stock – weapons, chemicals, and stuff . . . you know stock. She said she had an idea who it was, but she wanted me there when she did her more formal confrontation in case there were more than one involved. With everything last night and this morning, I couldn’t meet her at the time we agreed, so I said I’d meet her here. I didn’t think she’d confront them before I got here.

“Heard the shot just after I got out the car and smelled the blood. That one was already dying, the other ran. I went to see how Victoria was, called John then chased the runner, but I lost him,” he said for the benefit of the officer.

“You lost him?” Anders who’d been scribbling into a notebook looked up in utter disbelief.

“Happens sometimes. I was covered in Victoria’s blood by then. Makes it harder to smell anything else,” Peter said, hoping no one had yet divulged the finer points of werewolf anatomy to the officer. The man’s eyes were still wide, but he seemed to have bought Peter’s fable.

“I’m going to need a description to put out an alert, Mr. Hale,” the officer continued, seeming to find his tongue again.

“Can we do that on the way to the hospital?” Peter asked.

“No you do that now,” John said. “Jordan and I will head to the hospital. You’re going to the station and I’m calling Stiles to bring a new set of clothes. We need those.”

“Stiles isn’t there. He left a while ago,” Peter shared a silent look with John.

 _Ok, so Stiles was on the Realm._ Laura could probably get someone else to bring clothes out, plus he had to update his Alpha anyway. He’d already told her not to come. Now he’d tell her to double the patrols at least until they knew what new mess had been stirred up in Beacon Hills.

++++++

Maria arrived at the Hales’ to find the place almost literally in an uproar, and sat in the car, shock still for a moment, taking in the pieces and bits of conversation going on. It all seemed to surround the capture of some man that the Alpha had warned everyone to stay away from.

And here she’d been hoping for a quiet sabbatical of sorts to Beacon Hills. She should have known better.

With a final sigh, she exited the vehicle and stretched, glancing at her watch which told her it had just gone 2 in the afternoon. Six hours of driving sure was a pain in the neck, but preferable to flying. She reached into the back for her duffle, slinging it over a shoulder.

“You’re here.”

And Maria’s heart skipped a beat. This _would_ be the first soul to welcome her. She smiled softly and raised eyebrows at the redhead. “Hello to you too, Lydia. What the hell’s going on? Can’t you people live in peace for one damn day?”

Lydia smirked, held back the laugh but stepped forward. As if she’d just remembered whom she was addressing, the banshee pulled herself up short, waiting for the wolf to make the first move. Maria wish she’d continued whatever it was she’d been about to do to welcome her.

Oh well, she knew from the start it wouldn’t be easy. Time to take the bull by the horn. Dropping the duffle to the ground, she stepped into Lydia’s space and folded the younger woman into her arms. After just a moment’s pause, Lydia returned the gesture, holding her tight.

“I’ve missed you, Red.” She buried her nose in Lydia’s neck.

“Me too.”

++++++

John paced the corridor, flexing his fingers as he did. Allison sat quietly, subdued in a chair nearby, holding on to Scott’s arm like it was her last lifeline.

“Anyone reached dad yet?” She asked softly, and knew without raising voice when the Sheriff paused, that he’d heard her.

“Not yet, but Peter’s trying to get a message to Stiles. Wherever your dad is, he may be out of cell reception.”

“What about the satellite phone. He always has one of him.”

“Same,” Parrish replied. “But I’ve asked Danny to keep trying to see if he can rig something up. I promise we’ll find your dad. Chances are he’s with the investigators.”

Allison nodded absently. She understood, sure she did. Somehow her mother was investigating smuggling in the business and ended up getting herself in a position to be shot, and her dad was off chasing wolves with supernatural investigators from the Realm, and nobody told her anything. She wasn’t a child to be shielded from the bad stuff, dammit.

She’d thought this was behind them. After she’d proved herself the night the rest of Beacon Hills found out about the supernatural, she thought surely her parents respected her right to know what was going on around her. She should have known better. The constant talk about sending her off to university in Boston should have been a clue, but she’d thought when she shot down suggestion after suggestion and avoided discussion about sending her far away that her parents had finally accepted she was staying. Obviously she was wrong.

“You need to stop beating yourself up. You didn’t know,” Scott said softly, wrapping a hand around her shoulders.

“That’s no excuse. Surely you know that by now,” Allison mumbled.

Scott looked up and met the Sheriff’s gaze. Neither knew how to make this better.

It was another hour before the doctors came out, nodding to them. The surgeon paused and a smile broke onto his face. “It's looking good. We got the bullet and repaired the damage. It was a little touchy because we were worried about the trajectory and the proximity to her heart, but the Lord must have been on her side, because she came through the surgery successfully. It’ll be a couple days of observation but we don’t expect any complications to arise from this point forward. She must have had an angel sitting on her shoulders,” the doctor told the waiting, worried faces.

Allison was the first to burst into tears. Scott held her tight. Parrish looked to the Sheriff and nodded, heading out of the hospital to the shooter who now had quite a few questions to answer.

When he got to his cruiser, he sat in the seat for a moment and took a deep breath and dialled Danny. “Where are you?”

“At the office. Still tracking Chris in between putting out a fire in Brazil. One of our servers there crashed unexpectedly, so I’m coordinating the on-the-ground support. Are you ok? Any word yet?” Danny said in a rush.

“Yeah, doc says she’s gonna be ok. I just needed to hear your voice. It’s been a hell of a day.”

“Wow, that’s good news, right. Now you can go back and question the scumbag that shot her,” the wolf said.

“Danny?”

“Oh, right. I’m not supposed to know about that yet. Ok, look, what’s the point of surveillance all around town if I don’t apply it to keep the pack safe. From the time the Sheriff rushed out of the office like the devil himself was on his tail, I knew something was up. I could feel it in pack bond. Then when the ambulances were dispatched I just kept track, in case surveillance was needed. It’s what I do, Jordan, you know that.

“So instead of arguing with me about keeping an eye on this town, how about you get back home and help Laura and Eric get some answers about of that traitor? I’ll be late tonight, so don’t wait up, ok hun?”

“Sometimes I don’t know why I love you.”

Danny chuckled, a warm, honeyed tone down the line that was just what Parrish needed, “Liar. And I love you too. Now bye. I’ll let you know when I track Chris. They’re too deep in forest right now for the satellites to pick up anything solid and I don't have facilities for heat signatures down there.”

“Ok, I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful?”

“Aren’t I always?” Parrish asked with a smirk.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that, Mr Jump-First-Ask-Questions-Later.” And Danny hung up as Parrish continued to smile, allowing the day’s tension to ease from his shoulders.

He started the car, smile still on his face, but startled as the passenger door was pulled open. He’d heard and seen no one and was already shifting, preparing to battle whomever was foolish enough to challenge him, as a woman climbed into the passenger seat beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and comment if you care to, otherwise catch you on the flip.


	5. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parrish’s passenger is revealed and the Beacon Hills Pack prepares for the unknown. Meanwhile Chris and his hunting party run into another surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got a taste of each character in the chapters before. As we close up, we’ll gain more insights into what makes them, well, them. There will be a few side stories, but everything comes together eventually. This is tha last lax chapter before things speed up. Enjoy.

“Are you really going to attack your own mother?” The woman who’d climbed in beside him asked, with raised brows and a smirk. “I know you and your father aren’t on the best terms, but surely . . . this is a little excessive,” she joked.

“Mom? Oh my . . . mom?!” He bound across the seat and wrapped the woman that smelled exactly like him in his arms. “You hid your scent.” He said, still embracing her.

“We work in the shadows, love. What did you expect? Let me look at you.” Her glowing golden eyes raked his form, though the smile remained at her ageless mouth.

“You’ve hardly aged.” It was so good to see her and he felt like his insides were starting to overheat with joy. She still had her characteristic smile and good temperament, despite being what they were – more prone to blood and violence than peace.

“Pffft, what’s age to us, hmmm? I hear you have a mate?”

At his mother’s question, Parrish felt like he’d been tossed in an ice bath and bristled, prepared for her also to mandate he give up what was his, but he was no longer the pup he’d been when they last saw each other. “Yes, and I’m not giving him up.”

“Did I ask this of you?” her eyebrows climbed again and she looked at him in reproof.

“Father . . .”

“Pffft! Your father has always been a pig-headed, self-righteous man who listens to no one but himself and his own needs. Despite the fact that we haven’t seen each other in a couple hundred years, I’d like to think you remember me more warmly than that.”

“I still don’t even know why he came. He came, without invitation or notice, and started threatening my pack and laying down the law like this was his realm.”

“Your pack, eh? So you’ve chosen your place, finally,” she exhaled and smiled.

The words and gesture sounded strange coming from his mother, but if she was willing to accept this, then surely there was hope? Maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought. “What do you mean finally?”

“Drive, son. I think you were headed somewhere? And you may also want to call your Alpha to let her know you, or rather she is about to have a guest. I’d like at least a warmer welcome than your father enjoyed.”

Parrish took his phone once again and called Laura.

++++++

“Can we trust her?” Laura asked looking at Eric, “And why now?” she frowned, resisting the urge to let her uncertainty show. She wished Peter was here. But then, she couldn’t always expect her uncle to provide her with counsel. She had to learn to trust her own instincts and leadership.

“Jordan didn’t sound under duress, so we have to assume he’s at least comfortable with his mother being here. As to whether we can trust her, how about we not make any decisions on that just yet,” Eric responded.

“I think we should make sure the younger ones are safe tonight. There’s too much going on, and I don’t want the upheavals to breed any fear. We’ve had enough fear in this pack to last us a lifetime,” Laura contended.

“I agree, and with Peter and Stiles not here, the most we can do right now is take precautions,” Maria added her two cents.

“I’ll make sure the younger pups are safe with their families tonight and coordinate with Eric to reassign some of the guards who are not on patrols,” Cora offered, as her sister gave her a side-eye. “You need all hands on deck now, Alpha,” she deliberately did not engage her sister in a familiar manner to indicate this was all business. “We still have no clue what that shooter knows, and until Peter and John get here, I think we should leave him exactly where he is, with security”

“And we should let this meeting reveal what it will about how things are in the Underworld. Stiles gave us the assurance that the ruler there is not in the least intending to launch an attack on us for Aviur’s perceived slight, but as he said, they aren’t exactly known for sticking to the truth even though Stiles doesn’t think they’d risk angering the Queen,” Lydia joined in the discussion from a spot close to Maria. “If Jordan’s mother truly is more accepting, then maybe we have an ally that can tell us whether we have anything to worry about or not. At the very least maybe it will reassure Danny. This hasn’t been easy on him knowing he doesn’t have acceptance from Jordan’s family.”

Silence fell for a minute. The Hale Pack was very conscious that their newest beta had been wrestling with challenges of self-image since the unfortunate run-in with Parrish’s father. Issues that Danny had thought long buried raised up in his psyche again. Lydia was the only one, other than Parrish, who knew the full extent of why the words had hurt Danny so. It was not easy being seen as a minority in any context, and Danny was triply so – of Hawaiian heritage; a werewolf, and a bitten one at that.

“Ok, Cora, also take Abigail with you. She’s likely to be able to talk to the smaller ones that feel it’s their duty to hide and pry. I want everyone safe in their houses for the rest of the night. Eric, you’ll help Lydia reassure the others that everything is fine. Tell them as much as you need to, but we’ll have a pack meeting later with everyone. I’m not going to have our pack return to the days when some were included and others left out. Make sure they understand that, and I will answer all their questions then. Lydia, set a campfire for late tonight. I’m going to contact the elders. I think they should be here tonight and until we are more certain than we are now. Plus they will understand the protocols that must be observed.” Cora, Eric and Lydia nodded and left to do as the Alpha bade. “Tread carefully,” she advised as they departed.

Just then her phone rang and she answered Derek’s call.

“What’s wrong,” her brother said without preamble.

“Jordan’s mother is here. Victoria’s been shot but had a successful surgery. I won’t know more until Peter, John or Jordan get here, and Stiles is on the Realm. We still can’t get hold of Chris about Victoria, and I’m freaking out just a tad bit, Der,” she said in a rush.

“Breathe. You’ve been doing this for only three years now, but even before that you provided a lot of comfort to the pack. Give yourself a break. Make sure you don’t push panic into the bond but also don’t hide from the pack, like mom did. Who’s there with you? Do you need me to come home?”

Laura allowed a smile to come. Her brother was finally growing into the man she’d hope he would be. “I’ve got Cora, Lydia and Eric out reassuring the pack. Maria is still too new to everyone, but she’s here at the house. Peter, I think may be at the hospital by now with John. He was giving statements earlier.

“I just had a moment of anxiety. I think everything’s going to be ok. I just needed to calm down a bit. Thanks, Der. I think you should stay there until we know more about where these wolves might plan to strike next. I don’t like any of this. I’ll keep you informed and you do the same.”

“Alright. Be safe. I . . . I love you guys,” he said hesitantly.

“We love you too. I’ll tell Cora you called.”

“And tell Peter everything’s good on the home-front. We’re sticking together so no one is unaccounted for at any time.”

“Good. I’ll talk to you later. Oh, how’s Braeden?”

“Off to New York. Trying to find information for Peter about this situation with his daughter. Is she really his? Do we have a cousin, Laura?”

“We did the tests today. Be a few days till the results are back. All we can do is wait.”

“Alright, I’ll go and let you sort yourself out. Call me if you need me.”

“Thanks, Der. You have no idea how much that means. Bye.”

“Bye.”

++++++

The High Guard and his soldiers, plus a few hunters came to a dead end. The wolves’ trail led them deep into the forests, high into the mountains and the disappeared. They were in the middle of some kind of clearing in the woods, which was dark, totally covered overhead by a corpse of dense trees, and for some reason held a chill that felt way deeper than just a drop in temperature of the area.

“What’s this?” one of the hunters asked.

“I think what we have here is magic of some kind at work. I don’t recognise the signature used as any we are familiar with in the Realm, but I’d have to confer with our Queen to be certain. I’d say they opened some kind of portal here, so they could travel back and forth.”

“That’d explain how they were able to move around and coordinate so many attacks in just weeks, sometimes days of each other. And how they’ve been able to transport the hostages they are now taking,” Chris supposed. “So they’re working with someone with magic.”

“Yes, I think you’re right. But let me try something first,” Eugene, the head of the guard said. He closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate, then held out his hand and within moments it was holding the staff he’d earlier given to Xander.

Chris wondered if the powers of those of the Realm would ever stop being scary as hell. He watched, as still deep in concentration, Eugene stretched out the staff towards the centre of the clearing and seemed to just focus whatever power he had there. A stifling kind of feeling rose in the space and it felt as if their ears were getting ready to pop, when all of a sudden, Eugene was thrown back, by a clear six feet or so, barely missing colliding with the thick trunk of a tree, but managing to tumble through the brush and would have disturbed the underbrush, had any creatures actually been nesting there.

Everyone startled, but it was Chris and one of the soldiers, a man they’d come to know simply as Brack, that were first thrust into action, rushing to Eugene’s aid. The man sat up and pushed himself to his feet just as they reached his side and frowned, but seemed unharmed.

“Well I guess we can say with some certainty that there is a fair bit of magic at work here.” He rubbed his arm and butt.

“Sir?” Brack said, in that deep voice that would be scary as fuck if Chris wasn’t a rough and tumble hunter himself, but nevertheless would probably shudder to hear on a dark night in a dead-end alley.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. No harm done. I’d say there’s a pretty powerful protection spell against anyone getting through that portal,” Eugene continued, brushing off the concern of the others.

“So what, we’re dealing with witches here?” Chris asked again, looking at the supposedly innocent looking clearing.

“Maybe not. Something a heck of a lot more powerful than mere witches, I’m afraid. Exactly what, I still don’t know yet, but that gateway is definitely closed to us.” Eugene waved his staff again and a cyclone of what felt like air rushed pass toward the clearing. When he lowered his staff the chief guard seemed a little more settled. “Now there’s a barrier around it. If it ever opens again, we’ll be alerted. Let’s head back. There’s nothing more we can do here and I need to talk to our Queen.”

In a blink, the entire search and investigation party vanished.

++++++

Malia sat there wondering if she should say something. Surely she should say something beyond, “Hi, I’m Malia, you know, the reason you’re here.” It was only after it bubbled out of her mouth like verbal vomit that she thought maybe it sounded a bit condescending. But then there was nothing she could do to roll it back at that point. So she sat there, looking at the beautiful, compact werewolf and envying her good looks just a bit.

She’d seen the by-play between her and the banshee Emissary and it was clear there was something there. She still wasn’t up on all the private details of the Hale Pack, and rightly so. Until the results came back positive or otherwise, she was still a bit on the outside looking in. She couldn’t fault them for putting safety above all else. In their position, she probably would have put the intruder (meaning herself) into a nearby motel and away from the centre of the pack. The trust these people had, after the bits and pieces that she’d gathered about what happened to all of them some three years ago now, was astounding. To her mind, it was also a bit crazy. _Who trusts someone they just met who might or might not be linked to or part of a threat they are trying to track down?_

If she had anything to say about it though, she’d ensure she wasn’t a deliberate threat to the pack. They’d all been nothing but nice and supportive to her. It would kill her if she was, even unknown to herself, some kind of threat or trap.

“You can relax, you know. I promise not to bite,” Maria said looking blankly at the girl before her. They’d retreated to the library, which was fully soundproof, and had been better insulated against conversation leakage since Laura took over the pack.

“I don’t understand why you’re here.” Malia blushed again. Maybe she shouldn’t have phrased it as such.

This time Maria smiled. “Can we speak frankly between each other? I find that’s the way I operate best, and you seem to as well.” When she got the nod of consent from the coyote, she continued, “I think Peter thought I’d be able to help you sort out some of what you’ve been through and to cope with your nightmares and anxiety attacks. I know what it’s like, some of what you’re going through and I think I can help, if you let me. We might even be able to sort out some of what you’re trying to remember, but for some reason your brain refuses to fill in the blanks.”

“ .  .  . except when I’m sleeping when they come as nightmares but are gone again when I wake up.” Malia allowed the frustration to enter her voice.

“Yeah, exactly. I went through a long period of tiring nightmares myself for a couple years.” When the girl’s eyes flew open, Maria sought to clarify. Leaning forward she explained, “My family was killed in front of me years ago. My husband and two children, in a very horrible manner, and for a long time I blamed myself for what happened to them. Logically I knew they were killed by someone other than myself, but I also knew part of the reason they died was because of a choice I made and couldn’t take back. Even after I stopped having the nightmares as frequently, the guilt still weighed on me. I actually didn’t realise how much until very recently when someone I care about forced me to acknowledge that what happened to me was preventing me from moving forward with my life.”

Maria placed an elbow on each knee, clasping her fingers together as she leaned forward toward the girl whom she felt was just starting to relax. “I’m not trying to scare you about the nightmares, but from what Peter told me you’ve also been through a lot, most of which you can’t remember. I’m here to give you someone to talk to who can empathise without you having to feel that no one understands. I do and you can come to me whenever. Even if it’s just to sit in silence and stare into space. I had someone do that for me when I needed it.”

“Did any of it work? The whole, ‘things will get better give it time’ spiel never feels like anything but hot air to me.”

“It will take time, but also effort. You see sometimes we hear the ‘give it time spiel’, as you put it, and we get cynical about it because we ourselves aren’t willing to put in the effort for time to make it ok. Just passing time won’t get you over anything if you aren’t willing to move on and make a conscious effort to do that. That’s been my experience. But I had someone there who became like a brother to me, who also understood some of what I was going through, because his experience was similar. We both lost a lot and as a result we kind of gravitated to each other.”

They fell into silence for a bit, and Maria got up to get a bottle of water from the mini-refrigerator in the corner. She held one up to Malia who shook her head. As she was closing the door, the girl said, “I’m worried . . . I mean, I . . .  I don’t think the pack should trust me.”

Maria turned, uncorked the bottle and sipped before responding. “Why?”

“I’ve got big portions of my memory that are missing and the things that I do remember in flashes make no sense to me. Based on what Stiles saw, I’ve had contact with these wolves they are tracking; wolves, who keep attacking other packs. What if this is how it starts? Someone showing up on their doorsteps with a sob story that seems likely enough and before they know it, ‘wham!' – attacked or something worse. I don’t even know what I don’t know. For all that everyone is being so nice to me, I could be the one who brings about the downfall of this pack.”

“It’s a good sign that you’re worried about it, but wouldn’t you rather have people at your back if that is the case than be alone and find yourself in a situation that you are being used against your will? At least here you know everyone is working to find out what happened to you and if this is what you are here for they will go to the ends to make sure you come out of it ok. When your body or mind is used against you to hurt others, at least you know it’s not just you. I promise to watch your back. Nothing more’s going to happen to you on my watch, and I know Peter and Stiles feel the same.”

Malia audibly exhaled and a bit more tension seemed to leach out of her shoulders. Maria just hoped she could live up to that promise.

++++++

When Victoria came through, the first thing she noticed was a warm hand in hers. The second was a weight beside said arm on the bed. Turning her head, keeping in the groan, she recognised Allison’s mop of dark hair on the bed beside her. Her daughter was fast asleep, sitting in a chair beside her bed, with her cheek pressed into the mattress beside her mother’s arm. Said arm was attached to an IV – the bag just visible at the corner of her eye. It looked like she was in a private room.

The fact that there was no Chris keeping vigil told her her husband had yet to return. She prayed he was Ok. She brushed fingers through Allison’s hair and it was a testament to her daughter’s training that she sprung up from the bed and looked ready to do bodily harm to any perceived threat.

“Mom?” her daughter’s voice shook and her eyes were a little swollen.

“Hey,” she croaked, feeling a little groggy still from the anaesthesia. “I’m ok. I’m fine,” she managed around a sore, dry throat.

“You’re not fine. Someone almost blew a hole through your chest,” Allison said tearfully, pushing stubborn into her voice, dashing a hand across her wet eyes.

“Sorry,” Victoria tried to calm her emotional daughter. Allison wasn’t one given to very emotional outbursts. In fact, she held too much in, channelling everything inward – even more so as of late.

“Sorry? Sorry? That’s what you say after going after someone without back-up. Isn’t that what dad always says, if he’s not around don’t go in alone? And why didn’t you tell me we had problems with the business? I should know these things, Mom,” she cried.

“Shhh,” the effort to calm her daughter made her cough dryly, and Allison reached for the ice chips nearby and press the call button to the nurses’ station. Swallowing, Victoria tried again, “I wasn’t trying . . . to leave you or your father . . . out of it. It was something . . . I could have handled . . . on my own. It doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. I just don’t want this for you,” Victoria said tiredly, realising her body felt bruised like she’d been hit by more than a single bullet.

“Well you’d better get used to it. I’m putting you on notice that as of now I’m playing a more active role in the business, until you get back on your feet or dad comes back to resume, and even when he does, we’ll begin negotiations for when I officially take over the family business. I’m an adult now and I will be treated as one.” Having said her bit, Allison brushed her hand across her mother’s forehead, as a nurse bustled into the room.

Allison just hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer before they got hold of her dad, and that he was all in one piece. One injured, near-death parent was quite enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of dialogue this week, but we now start to get into the real action when things start to crash together. I’ve a few days off of rest, so I will probably be posting every day or every two days until I’m done. So look out for more updates during the week. I’d love to hear what you’re thinking.


	6. These Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BH Hale Pack meets Parrish’s mother who has news for Peter and the pack. But fate has other ideas and before the end of the day all will not be well in Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so freaking had a clear outline for this chapter, one that did not include Stiles freaking Stilinksi, but he jumped in anyway. (I blame Peter) . . . so I had no choice but to go where he led. Dammit! Ok, so this one turned out differently than intended. All I can say is it’s going to get violent from here on out. Please be warned! 
> 
> ***VIOLENCE AHEAD*** (you can read the end notes if you think you might not be able to handle it. May be a little spoilery if you do)

Parrish pulled the cruiser into park. He’d called John and explained that he was taking the office vehicle back to the house since he had his mother in tow. He could literally sense his boss’ apprehension down the line as the man enquired if he was OK. After what had happened with his dad, he didn’t fault the man for his worry.

After providing reassurance, the conversation while headed to the pack house was mostly cosmetic – finding out what his mother had been up to the past years; asking after other relatives he had not seen in more years than he’d even seen his mother, and finally to the question that had been burning his tongue since she climbed into the car beside him – “What are you doing here, mom?”

“I was worried about you, baby. Isn’t that my job anymore?”

“I wasn’t sure after father . . .,” he trailed off. “And besides, it’s not like we’ve been awfully close these past decades.” While on earth Parrish presented as a young man in his 20s. In reality, he was over 200 years old. He’d been considered a pup until 4 years old on his homeland, which was decades older in human years. The mathematics at times was confusing.

“We don’t need to call each other every day for me to want to know how you are. I’ve been looking after you for 200 years, Jordan. Do you think I’d let anything harm you, ever? Your father be damned to hell and back, you’re my son. My only son. If you are in danger, I will never not show up.” His mother said, and reached over to caress his arm.

It was then that her words sunk in. She’s show up if he was in danger. Parrish swallowed with difficulty. “Mom? What coming?” Goose pimples stung his skin.

“Something you’re all going to need help with,” she said with a finality he’d never heard his mother use before.

++++++

Peter blew out a harsh breath as the elevator doors swung open. It had taken longer than he would have liked to finish with the police and sign the appropriate copies of his statement and then give details on the “missing shooter”. He was frustrated and angry with himself for failing Victoria. If he’d been two minutes earlier, he would have gotten both bastards before they could do any harm.

His mind immediately flipped back to another woman covered in blood and he tried in vain to shake the image from his brain. He’d been thinking about his late wife a lot lately, since Malia showed up, wondering what Amanda would have thought about it, if now while their own son or daughter would have been a teen, if she would have been angered or accepting of the young woman.

Then his thoughts drifted to Stiles, whom he knew had been struggling with how to handle the situation on top of everything else. Right now all he wanted was to hold his mate in his arms. To just, for a brief while, be wrapped up in him and let everything else fade away. He felt like everything was just getting so complicated right now. And he missed his pack. Yes, Maria was here, but he missed them, so much. Maybe he’d get Stiles to go with him for a day, just one day. Whip back to Stanford, spend the day surrounded and wrapped up in the smell of pack-family-home, and then return to Beacon Hills to help sort this mess out.

He didn’t know if he could handle much more stress or friction right now. He longed for peace.

He stepped into Victoria’s room. Both she and Allison were asleep in the bed, side by side, with Allison curved towards her mother. Their hands were twined together on Victoria’s chest, on the opposite side from where she was shot.

Then Allison’s eyes shot open. If Peter didn’t know better he would have thought her a wolf, the way she responded to a presence in the room – all predatory stillness and watching. When she recognised him the stiff body eased and she exhaled, “Hi Peter,” she whispered, edging away from her mother and carefully disentangling their hands.

“How’s she doing?” he asked, as he breathed his own sigh of relief at her strong heartbeat.

Allison came to stand beside him, both watching her mother sleep. “Surgery went well but they are keeping her for observation for a few days, maybe the rest of the week. So I’d say she won’t be going home until Monday or Tuesday. The bullet did a bit more damage than it should’ve, but she’s strong. Doc said that’s probably why everything went so well.

“So far she’s been a little groggy on the meds, but fully functioning faculties. So that’s good. Still nothing on dad and I’m trying not to worry, but if she wakes up again and he’s not here I know she’ll worry. Thanks, Peter. I was told you’re probably the reason they didn’t finish her off in the warehouse. This has been such a nightmare. What can you tell me about why this happened?”

“Not much more than you already know. They were stealing stuff. As to what, only your mother knows the full details.”

Allison ran a tired hand across her face. “I’ll go through the books and see what I can find. Mom and dad are both manic about the records, so it should be easy to track. They said the guy that did this got away?” Now her eyes were hard on him, exactly like her father’s would be, and he wondered how much to tell her.

In the end, he decided to go with honesty. She was after all, part of the extended Hale family. “He’s at the house. I caught him and gave him over to Eric. They’ll sit on him until John can question him. Your mother thought he knew something about these wolf attacks that have been happening and his comments to me seem to bear that up.”

“Of course you caught him,” she turned back to look at your mother. “She’d have insisted on it. So the next step now is to find out what the hell happened to our stock and who’s behind it. Any ideas?”

“None I want to share till I know the full extent of what’s missing,” he answered.

“Well, I’d better get on that then,” she leaned down and kissed her mother’s forehead.

“You shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’m not,” she brushed a hand on Peter’s, “you’ll stay, with mom?” When he nodded she turned and left the room, nodding to the officer stationed at the door.

Scott jumped up from where he’d been sitting. Peter hadn’t even noticed when he’d passed him, and the young man looked shiftily at him before turning to listen to what Allison was saying. Apparently, Scott was to be Allison’s back-up now. He watched the lad straighten his shoulders as if preparing for the role just assigned him. His eyes were bright with purpose as he looked Peter dead on for the first time, bared his neck and then bowed, before follow Allison out of the hospital.

Peter stood stunned staring after him. Well wonders will never cease. The young man, who’d once been Stiles’ best friend had just paid him the highest honour for any alpha beyond his own, and Peter was still reeling a bit when he heard bed sheets rustle.

“Where . . .” Peter heard the croak just as it penetrated that Victoria was awake.

“She’s going to track down the evidence so we can figure some of this mess out,” Peter pulled a chair close to the bed.

Victoria’s eyes flew wide with fear. “No!” she struggled to push herself up in the bed as Peter startled forward and the machines attached to monitor her condition went wild beeping. He tried to restrain her without hurting her further, but the woman was strong – solid muscle, even medicated.

A nurse ran into the room in alarm. “What the hell is going on here? I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir. She’s not supposed to get worked up like this. She could tear her stitches and heaven help us if that happens so soon after her operation!”

“Vicky! Calm the hell down!” Peter was still holding her. “Scott’s with Allison and I was just about to call Laura to send backup. Now stop!”

He watched a tear roll out of Victoria’s eyes, but she finally settled down, breathing heavily and grimacing in pain. He smelled blood the same time the nurse exclaimed and grabbed the call button. He was quickly pushed out of the room as more nurses and a doctor came running in.

 “Chris, where are you,” he heard Victoria moan as the doctor closed the door in his face.

“Dammit,” Peter smacked the wall, bruising his knuckles.

++++++

“How long have you known?” Stiles was simmering with anger, holding his power in by sheer will.

“We didn’t know anything for sure until this morning when she left the Underworld and the place almost imploded,” Valmiur, the Queen’s betrothed spoke up.

“And you said nothing to us. Nothing to Jordan! Is Dom still in control?”

“Yes, I’d know if something happened to him, but he hasn’t called for the Realm to intervene,” said Angelina, but despite her serene countenance, he could feel the tension beneath the surface.

“You know he’d go down with the ship before he calls for help. Damn stubborn man. Keep me informed. I have to find my mate,” Stiles said, bowing to the Court.

“Duinerth! Be careful and call if you need our help. Now is no time for pride.”

“Believe me, I know that. But if they want a war, they’re barking up the wrong Breton,” Stiles said as he vanished, urgently in search of Peter.

++++++

The officer threw another unsettled glance in his direction, the third in almost as many seconds, but Peter couldn’t help it – he paced. Up. Down. Up. Down, pause to listen beyond the doors. Wash and repeat.

Then his phone rang. Shit, he’d forgotten to call Laura about Allison.

“Hey, Laura. I forgot to call you. I need you to send an extra security to Silver Arms. Allison’s gone to try to figure out what her mother found, but Victoria got upset and I promised her I’d ask you to send extra bodies. She may need to go back to surgery,” Peter said the last tiredly.

“What’s happened?”

“She completely lost it when I told her Allison’s gone to get the evidence. She might have aggravated her wounds. The doctors are in with her now. Maybe repairing her stitches. I just hope that’s all it is. Any word at all on Chris?”

“Yes, Danny found him and he’s coming. Likely straight there.”

Peter exhaled in relief.

“But that’s not the reason I’m calling. I need you to come to the house, Peter.”

At the tone of Laura’s voice, the hair on the back of Peter’s neck stood up. “What’s happened? Is it Stiles?” He rubbed his chest. _He’d know if something’d happen to his mate right? Despite the fact that Stiles puts up his blocks whenever he’s on the Realm. He’d know!_

“No, Peter . . .”

“Are you in danger . . .”

“Peter! It’s about you and I need you here!” Laura growled down the line and Peter’s eyes went instantly red at the Alpha command, every bone in his body alert and in rebellion. “I’m sorry,” his niece’s voice trembled, “I didn’t mean to do that, but Peter, you have to come. Now.”

He glanced at the still closed door, torn. At the ding of the elevator bell and the smell of wolfsbane, he swung to watch as a pale Chris marched up to him, eyes wide. “I’m on my way,” he hung up on Laura.

“What the fuck happened, Peter? What happened to my wife?” Chris’ voice broke on the last word.

++++++

Allison climbed the steps to the house, chatting with Scott, sharing her worries that her father had yet to return. It’d only take a few minutes to grab the keys to the office and then they could go. She pushed the key in door and just as she went to turn the knob, Scott rushed forward, grabbing her bodily and diving off the stoop as the door blew wide to smithereens.

++++++

“I don’t understand why you can’t tell us anything until my uncle gets here,” Laura said, angry. She’d just sent two of her pack off to find Allison and Scott. The weak pack bond with Scott would still lead them to him. It was yet another thing she was determined to do something about. It was time for Scott to either come fully into the pack or choose his own path. No more sitting on the fence.

“Most of what I have to say involves your uncle. It just won’t do to have to repeat it when he arrives. We don’t have time for that,” the woman said. Rubekkah was a picture of elegance – slim sleek lines, long dark blond tresses and skin that was neither pale nor dark, but flawless.

Lydia watched her every movement with calculation and interest, as did Maria who had yet to move from her spot close to Malia. Rubekkah had likewise insisted the young woman be present for what she had to say to both her and Peter. It all felt a bit melodrama-ish to Lydia, but she would not say that aloud.

She didn’t quite have the magic that Stiles did, but she murmured a quick spell her friend had taught her to bring calm to the room. The hell hound turned instantly to her with raised brows and Rubekkah’s lips quirked in a wry smile of something that might be approval, though she was too much of an unknown to Lydia to guess at the true meaning.

“Well done, banshee. I can feel the difference already,” she said, in that melodious voice that could almost rival Lydia’s own siren-like speech.

Laura shot a look at Lydia. “The calming spell,” Lydia shrugged at her Alpha. “I thought it would help.” Laura nodded that it probably had and they all went back to waiting; waiting and stewing and trying to resist the urge to strangle Parrish’s mother for her obstinacy – out of deference to their pack mate, of course.

++++++

Chris grabbed him by the shirt and in seconds he was up against a wall. “You promised you’d take care of her!” He yelled in Peter’s face, and if he’d begun throwing punches, Peter would have done absolutely nothing to stop him.

Which is why Stiles stepped into the room from “nowhere” at just that moment. “I would let go of my mate if I were you,” he said with a dead calm, and the nurses and single police officer who’d been rushing forward suddenly halted their advance.

Chris was breathing heavy, heart pounding as he swung to face the younger man. Stiles walked forward and laid a hand on his arm. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the man that shot her. Peter’s checked in on both your wife and daughter consistently since you’ve been gone. This morning things just went awry.”

“What happened?” Chris’ voice was near broken.

“She surprised the men who were stealing from you, and one of them shot her. We didn’t know they would have been at the warehouse,” Peter’s speech was just as halting, filled with regret and no small amount of guilt.

“Where is she?”

“Mr. Argent?” a nurse approached timidly. “Your wife is being tended by the doctor. She tore a few of her stitches, which they are now repairing. You’ll see her soon. Just please, no violence on the premises.”

Chris nodded and drifted over to a nearby set of chairs. Peter followed. Stiles stood watch.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I should never have let her get hurt.”

“Where’s Allison?” he asked looking around.

“She’s gone to the store to find the records of what’s missing from your supplies. Don’t worry Scott’s with her and Laura’s sending back up.”

Chris seemed to collapse forward, head in his hands and running roughly over his hair. “God, just let her be ok. Why didn’t she tell me there was something wrong? Why’d she have to deal with this alone? I spoke to her just yesterday.”

“You know Vicky’s always been headstrong. In all the years since I left this place, that’s never changed. If you were off dealing with your own hunt, she’d want to take care of this. She’d see it as her role in your stead.”

“I know you’re right, Peter. It just doesn’t make it any easier to accept with her lying in there,” he gesticulated angrily at the door to his wife’s room.

“If it’s any consolation, the doc’s reading her the riot act about taking it easy and not tearing any more stitches. She’s going to be ok. You’ll get to see her soon.”

++++++

Stiles swallowed heavily as his senses spread further. He’d felt an explosion and immediately began exploring the territory. When he realised which house it was he froze. His senses picked up both Allison and Scott on the scene and his heart skipped.

Peter shot an anxious glance at him now. Slowly rising to his feet, scenting the air around his mate. Their eyes met, minds melded and Peter gasped, turning instantly to Chris who was sitting with his head back against the wall, eyes closed.

 _‘No, not yet,’_ Stiles said into his mind. ‘ _Let me find out first._ _Don’t leave him till I return.’_ And before their eyes he vanished.

 _It couldn’t be._ Chris couldn’t suffer injuries to the two very people he loved on the same day. This would break him, surely. _Please let Allison be alive,_ Peter sent up a silent prayer.

++++++

Scott heard the snarl and his senses went on alert again as he rolled off Allison and to his feet. She coughed and started to move, but Scott was already looking into the dark around them. All the street lights up and down the area had gone dark. And he could smell wolves.

He shook his claws out and allowed the beta shift to overtake him. His eyes glowed as they scanned the dark. He’d defend the love of his life with his very life if necessary.

“Scott?” Allison said shakily.

“Shhh, there’s something here.”

“Ummm, smart puppy,” a slippery voice whispered from the darkness. It sent a ripple of fear down his spine.

“Who’s there? What do you want?” Scott said, as smoke from the fire in the doorway obstructed some of his vision, also causing Allison to cough again. His hearing picked up sirens in the distance, but it gave Scott little comfort as his werewolf senses went haywire trying to locate the intruder.

“You’ll know soon enough, puppy. You’ll all know soon enough.” It was said with a disembodied laugh, as a snarl came from his left and a wolf rushed from the darkness.

Scott barely had time to put up a defence as the animal barrelled into him, claws already slashing at him as Allison screamed and palmed a knife from her hip. The second swipe of its massive paw sent Scott tumbling. The animal didn’t even pause, just turned to Allison, who spread her feet to centre herself, swallowed back her fear and prepare for the attack.

Just then the animal was blasted, sent three feet into the air before crashing onto one huge shoulder. Stiles stood beside her, gaze glowing gold like a wolf himself. The animal immediately bounded to its feet and charged again. With a wave, Stiles sent a bolt of electricity which hit the animal but merely stunned it for a moment, as it tossed its massive head and charged again.

A feeling of fear that he had not felt in too long in a fight clawed up his throat as Stiles wondered if he was enough to end the beast, or if he’d be the one to fall.

++++++

A chill walked its way up Peter’s spine and he knew in that moment . . . he just knew.

++++++

“Oh!” Rubekkah’s head snapped up the same time her son’s did and their eyes connected.

“ ** _NO!_** ” Parrish roared and dashed from the house, paws pounding the earth as detritus flew away from him in his wake, praying he wasn’t too late this time. _Not again, he couldn’t fail him again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The violence at the end of the chapter isn’t gory. But there is the beginning of a wolf attack, and Stiles is in trouble – the real bad kind. Of course he is. I’m sorry. This time I actually mean that, but when I finished writing the chapter as much as I know people hate cliff-hangers I couldn’t not end it here or I’d have a probably 8000-10000 word chapter. So I promise I’m already writing 7 if it’s not done by the time I post this because I can’t seem to stop writing this now. Which is good, right? I’ve found my mojo.


	7. No Time for Games . . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parrish rushes to the rescue; Danny’s skills puts him in the path of danger when he sees more than he’s supposed to; and Peter loses it forcing Stanford to come to Beacon Hills once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot to say this week, other than I’m updating the tags to include Major Character Deaths. Sorry. Don’t swear at me too much, I actually cried as I wrote this chapter, but I had to do it.

Parrish’s blood was roaring in his ears and he could hear little else but he could taste the bloodlust on his tongue. His ears were peeled and he could clearly hear a blast up ahead. That could only mean that maybe Stiles was still standing.

Despite being part of Laura’s pack, it seemed his connection to the Stilinski’s was still intact because he’d felt when the Prince was wounded. How bad he didn’t know and he didn’t want to think what Peter could be going through at the moment. A second blast sounded and this time he also felt the pulse of energy. He was about a minute out but he recognised the signature as that of someone from the Realm.

He burst from the trees, almost in complete reverse to the route he’d taken some two years ago, hot on the trails of the wolf that had hurt Danny then. Before him was a bloody scene. Eugene was propping up Stiles by the shoulder, as blood dripped from a ragged tear in the younger man’s arm that looked scarily like a wolf bite. Allison and Scott were assisting and a team from a fire truck were hauling out a fire hose to douse the flames licking their way up the front of the Argents’ doorway.

He dashed across the street and skidded on a bloody, meaty pile, still smoking from having been blown to bits. A car screeched to a stop and John jumped out, and Parrish could hear more animal paws in the distance eating up the pace to their current location.

Peter was coming.

Stiles gritted his teeth as Allison wrapped her jacket around his arm, and it was quickly soaked in blood.

“Son?!” That was fear in John’s voice. “Why aren’t you healing? Can’t you heal it?”

“It seems not, Sheriff.” Eugene was the one to answer, adding. “I’m going to call for help from the Realm, but I’m sure our Queen felt even this. I’m don’t know what we’re dealing with here, but I’ve never heard of this happening before with anyone from the Realm.”

A huffing, panting Peter arrived just then, took one look at Stiles and roared – a long, high, painful sound that brought water instantly to Parrish’s eyes. “You’re not healing,” Peter cried. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“Babe, stop. Please,” Stiles gasped, breathless. He knew his hand was in a bad state. “Just give it a moment.”

But Peter was beyond this plea.

++++++

He could hear nothing but the rapid beat of Stiles’ heart; see nothing but the pulsing of blood pouring from the tightly wrapped arm and note the clammy, pale complexion of his mate. When he reached out, Peter only felt the sweaty, tacky skin that truly felt too thin under his fingers as he tried to pull some of his pain, which was considerable. _How’d he not noticed before how thin Stiles was?_

Peter’s skin felt too tight. His head felt like it was expanding the longer he just stood there. _He couldn’t . . . he just couldn’t lose him._ Peter grabbed his mate in his arms and took off at a run back in the direction he’d come, leaving everyone shocked and silent.

“Peter!” John called after him, but he’d long disappeared around the corner.

Parrish looked to John, “Go, I’ll handle things here.”

John jumped back into his cruiser and took off for the hospital.

++++++

Erica had just returned from a successful day in court, was celebrating with tales of how they’d reduced the lying man to contradicting himself in cross-examination that would now send the opposing team back to the drawing board in panic to either make a deal to settle or face the facts of an embarrassing loss in court.

So she was generally on top of the world when panic slammed into her, forcing the wind from her lungs like a punch to the kidneys. One of her colleagues exclaimed in alarm, and Erica barely possessed the presence of mind to hastily rush from the room, startling everyone else. She rushed into a bathroom stall, slamming the door closed, as the forced transformation sent claws shooting from her nail-bed and teeth from her gums.

She was fighting the panic at the agony she could feel from their Alpha. _Something was wrong. Something was very wrong!_

++++++

Boyd was laughing at the antics of his daughter, as she threw another pea at him – Everdeen hated peas and wasn’t afraid to let anyone know it – when the knife he’d been using to peel her apple slipped from his fingers.

Evie let out a piercing scream, as Boyd swung from the sink, trying to assess where the threat was coming from.

 _Peter!_ He realised. Their Alpha was in despair and rapidly losing control. In his foggy mind he knew only one thing could have this effect. _Stiles, there was something wrong with Stiles._

++++++

Alex rushed into Aliss’ class just as the teacher was turning from the board to address them. She halted shocked as the boy rushed up to his twin, bundled her up and rushed from the room. It happened so fast that they were gone before she could find her voice.

It left her shaken. For a minute there she would swear Aliss’ eyes were burning yellow.

++++++

Derek burst from his room at Evie’s scream, vaulted over the balcony, landing in a crouch at the bottom of the stairs, fully beta shifted and ran for the kitchen. What he found there was a shifted Boyd clutching his frightened pup, whom he was trying to comfort, and Ethan, gasping for breath and shaken.

“What?” Derek asked in alarm.

“Peter and Stiles. Something’s happening,” Boyd growled, obviously fighting his own shift.

Derek went cold all over.

“Erica and the pups. We need to get Erica and the pups.”

Derek was already running for the car.

++++++

Rubekkah stood. She’d arrived at the scene just behind Erica and Laura – the Alpha having left strict instructions with those who remained behind not to leave their homes.

Rubekkah had only stayed long enough to make sure her son was safe, but now she needed to find Peter and it was now more urgent than ever. She could no longer afford her air of superiority, the shit was officially splattered all over the ceiling and if the Bretton was injured, his mate would be on the war path and he needed to know what he was dealing with.

He needed to know now.

++++++

Peter stalked the waiting room. When he’d arrived with a bloodied Stiles in his arms, the doctors had jumped into action. It had taken everything in him to just release Stiles into their care, despite knowing it was for the best. It felt like there was an itch beneath his skin and an ache in his head – a maddening throbbing that he knew was his wolf battering to take over.

It wanted to rip and tear and avenge the injury to its other half. The fact that the wolf in question had been blown to bits was no consolation. It was overwhelming, even more so than the last time he’d lost a mate.

Damn, he couldn’t afford to think like this. _He would not lose Stiles. He could not lose Stiles. Neither he nor his wolf would survive it._

In the back of his mind he felt the tickle of his pack, their worry, fear, concern but he felt at a loss to respond as he normally would.

He felt bereft.

++++++

Lydia rocked Maria from one side to the other as Malia stood impotent and shaking nearby. The way the woman had sudden dropped forward onto her hands and knees, then let out a roar of sheer pain, arching her back as her nails gouged the floor.

Lydia, who’d rushed to her side at the yell of pain, had laid a hand across her back, even as Eric had shouted a warning.

“She won’t hurt me,” Lydia had said with certainty. “Maria. I need you to calm down. Come on back, Maria. It’s ok. It’s ok.” Lydia had continued to talk to her in little nonsense phrases until it seemed the wolf had herself back under control.

“Hospital.  Get me there!” Maria had said loosely.

The banshee swallowed thickly, wondering how bad it had to be for Maria to have had that response, and she had no doubt it was pack related. Or more accurately – Peter or Stiles . . .  or both. She trembled as she rushed to get her purse and keys. To the hospital they’d go.

++++++

“Mr. Hale,” the doc that appeared before him was the same one that had tended Victoria earlier. _What were the odds?_

 “How’s he?”

“Strong,” the doctor, with the name Michael something on his name tag, replied. “Strong, stubborn and healing.”

Peter’s breath rushed out at once and he started to shake, so much that the doctor laid a cautious hand on him and eased him into a chair.

“He’s going to be fine. Gave the nurse quite an earful he did about the ‘unnecessary fuss’, but I think all the excitement was a bit much. We’ve given him a sedative, so hopefully that will speed up the healing.”

The doctor glanced up as the Sheriff burst through out of the elevator.

++++++

The first thing John saw was Peter, seated with a doctor holding onto him and his legs almost gave way beneath him. _No, no, not his son. Stiles couldn’t be . . ._

“Peter?” John asked, voice shaky.

“He’s ok, John. He’s healing,” Peter dropped his head into his hands between his open knees and breathed deeply. He’d never been so scared in his life.

John likewise sank into the chair beside him. “Thank God!”

“I’m still worried that his healing didn’t kick in immediately,” the doctor said softer now. “Has this happened before?”

“Not since . . .,” Peter trailed off, “no. Never before.”

“And it was a wolf that attacked him?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think it means, doc?” John asked leaning forward to look Dr. Michael Aimes in his eyes.

“Something about the wolf bite must have been preventing him from healing. I’ve asked the nurses to take some samples, and I understand there may be a body of this wolf? We’ll need samples of that as well, but I’m not sure if we’ll have what’s necessary to thoroughly analyse them.”

“Get them to me,” Lydia said from behind the group. “I’ll do it.”

No one had seen her enter, but Rubekkah had paused only long enough to explain to the pack what was happening before she took off after her son, mentioning that she needed to get to Peter as soon as possible.

The doc looked to the Sheriff and Peter for their go ahead and rushed away when he received it.

++++++

The twin were still shaking, Alex’s eyes wide as he continued to run a comforting hand through his sister’s hair.

Evie was making pitiful little whining noises that all but broke Chase’s heart as Erica continue to hold and comfort her cub, and Derek was trying not to pace. Everyone was too on edge for him not to try to be the calm in the crowd.

“Lydia says he’s out of danger now,” Boyd said as he stepped back into the room. He’d left to make the call in the library in case the news was not good.

“We have to go to Beacon Hills,” Erica said, “and we have to go now.”

Boyd nodded. _Yes, they were going alright._

++++++

Stiles came around slowly but his brain was already kicking into gear. The last thing he recalled was trying to calm his mate who had been a mess of emotions all up and down their bond as he was laid on a bed and a doctor rushed up to them, already issuing orders to nurses, who’d been equally anxious.

Everything else was fuzzy.

“You’re awake.” It was Lydia’s voice.

“Ummm,” was the only sound that came out, despite his trying to work around a suddenly dry and heavy tongue. A straw touched his lips and he sucked in a little of the water.

“You gave Peter quite the scare. You gave us all quite the scare.”

“Where . . .?”

“I told him I’d take over the watch until you came around. He was ready to jump out of his skin, so I told him it was ok for him to go for a run. He’s a mess Stiles.”

The Breton closed his eyes as he searched for his mate. A stray tear leaked out the corner at what he found. He sent a calm down the pack bond. His mate would already know he was awake.

Lydia sat on the edge of his bed and brushed the tears away. “You’re going to be Ok. The Queen came. I think she may be still here somewhere, but you’d already started healing by the time she arrived.”

That made Stiles hold up his arm for the first time since he woke to examine the ‘damage’. His arm was a little discoloured but clearly healing.

“Your own healing kicked in I think, but I’m not sure. I’m examining samples taken from the bite and the wolf to see if we can isolate anything that will tell us why it took so long for that to happen. The more these animals attack the less I understand about what the hell is going on. Why would they go after Allison and Scott?”

Stiles eyes went wide, “Are they . . .?”

“They’re both fine, but the house is damaged. You saved them Stiles. I’m not sure if Scott would have survived that bite the way you did. He’s healing just as slowly from the scratches he got, but Laura’s taking care of that along with Eugene.”

Just then the door opened and the frame of Peter Hale stood still in the doorway. Lydia rose without another word, kissed his cheek and left, brushing a hand down Peter’s arm as she passed him.

“Come here,” Stiles held out his arms and his mate uttered a painful sound before collapsing into them.

“I almost lost you today,” Peter said, choked.

Stiles just held him tighter.

++++++

Lydia just collapsed in a chair outside the room and dropped her head into her hands as she allowed the tears she’d been holding at bay to fall. Someone came and silently sat next to her, a hand to her neck and squeezed gently. _Maria._ A short while ago the woman had been reeling with the pain that had flooded their pack bond as Peter had briefly lost control.  Lydia took a deep breath and sat up, looking at the dark haired woman who had more reason than she did to be a mess. “You ok?”

“I am now I’ve laid eyes on Peter and know he’s ok and can feel Stiles calming things down a bit. It was touchy there for a bit,” she admitted, hand still on Lydia’s neck.

A small silence sat between them before Lydia admitted, “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“His wound? Yeah, that was scary.”

“No, I mean yeah, that was scary but I’m talking about them, together. I don’t think I even knew that kind of love existed. I’ve never had someone want me like that, love me like that. Someone feel like they would die if they lost me like that. I didn’t know . . .” she trailed off.

“You do, Red. You do.” And Maria held her gaze and refused to let her look away from it.

++++++

“You should have told him long ago,” Rubekkah said to Angelina who stiffened at the reproach.

“It wasn’t relevant,” Angelina grated.

“You’ve had two years of knowing them. How could it not be relevant? Maybe it wasn’t then, but it is now. And it’s not your decision to make anyway. He has a right to know,” Rubekkah insisted. “If you don’t tell him I will.”

The fairy’s gaze on the hell hound hardened. “You don’t rule this Realm, Rubekkah. You’d do well to remember that. We still don’t know how much damage it will do to them.”

Rubekkah looked at the ruler of all things supernatural with new understanding. “Ah, I see. You’ve told Stiles, but he hasn’t told Peter yet. Was that wise?”

“We still don’t know what it means,” Angelina said defensively.

“Even I can smell the bullshit in that statement. You’re setting him up for a very difficult conversation and that’s not fair – to either of them. You need to fix this, and now, before more things go wrong on this realm. The last time the High Council sat and didn’t act, the family that my son and I guarded was virtually made extinct. That man in there is the last of his kind because of the Council’s inaction and subsequent heavy hand when things got out of control. Earth does not deserve to be wiped off the face of everything the way High Rock was. Fix this!” Rubekkah’s voice shook with passion as her eyes glowed red at the Queen.

Angelina’s stomach clenched, but she nodded and glided away back toward Stiles’ room and heard the hell hound turn to follow.

Angelina paused outside the room, hesitant for the first time to do what she must. Sometimes duty was a pain in the ass, and this was one mantle she’d love to pass over. A bit of guilt came as she acknowledged that that was what she’d almost done by revealing what she did to Stiles before he left the Realm in search of his mate. She’d known it would be hard to tell Peter what they must, but damn it had been wrong of her to give that duty to Stiles – even if all she did was tell him the truth. She’d known in the back of her mind that it meant he’d be the one to tell his mate and she’d be absolved of that duty.

Now, fate was catching up to her, to all of them for having not acted before.

++++++

Danny wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but he knew he’d at least captured it. His fingers flew fast across the keys as he tried to solidify and clean up the image. The man had walked up the porch of the Argents’ home, laid a hand against the door for maybe 20 seconds and then left.

To anyone not looking closely, it would look like he’d knocked or rang the bell, realised no one was home and retreated. The issue was Danny, who had eyes on practically every part of Beacon Hills lately, did not know this man. Did not see where he came from other than that he’d walked out of the forest near the Argents’ home and retreated by the same path.

Just then however, he’d been called away by his boss and by the time he returned, it had been to billowing smoke and fire, and Stiles, Scott and Allison battling a wolf in front of the burning house.

He’d tried calling Jordan, to find there was no answer on his phone, but seconds later his mate had shown up at the scene, which by then had also shown Eugene battling the wolf. Danny had recognised the newcomer as Eric’s grandfather. But Stiles was hurt and by the looks of it, Peter was losing his shit.

So as a hacker, Danny did the only thing he could, he hacked everything he could to identify the man, fingers sore but still pounding keys for hours on end. When he got as clear an image as he could, he sent the pic to Jordan’s phone as well as the Sheriff’s.

“Well aren’t you a treasure,” he heard behind him and jumped.

Danny swung around to look at the very face he’d just been trying to identify and his heart began to pound.

“You see the problem with what you just did, is that I was not ready for them to know me yet. You’ve just added a clock to the decimation of Beacon Hills, little one, and I think I’ll start with you.”

++++++

Stiles ran another hand through Peter’s hair, calming the wolf as he continued to sniff at Stiles and scent him. “Keep that up and we’re going to give all our friends out there quite an earful,” he joked.

Peter snorted at him, raised his head and claimed his lover’s lips.

Then a knock sounded on the door and the Queen and another woman walked in. Peter knew he should show the proper respect, but right now he couldn’t let go of his mate. Not yet.

“Peter . . . Stiles,” Angelina addressed them. “Good to see you healing properly.”

Peter felt his mate stiffen subtly and frowned at him. Before he could ask along their bond, the other woman spoke.

“Hello, Prince.”

“Hello, Rubekkah. What brings you to Earth?”

“You do. You and your mate,” she said, and the young man sighed and nodded. _So they’d be doing this now, would they? OK._

Peter felt his concern and rose a questioning brow, but Rubekkah continued. “Mr. Hale, my name is Rubekkah. I’m Jordan’s mother.” Peter’s eyebrows went higher as he looked at the woman who could pass for maybe 40 at most. She smiled ruefully, “In my realm we age a lot slower than even here on earth. I came today with news for you and for your daughter and mate, or rather, I should say I come with a warning.”

Peter sat up in the bed now, frowning at the woman that he now knew had been the guardian to Stiles’ ancestors before they were killed years ago. Whatever this was about, Stiles was way too calm . . . almost like he knew what was coming.

 ** _I do,_ ** he heard through their connection, **_and I’m so sorry, my love._ **

Stiles’ declaration raised the hair on his neck.

“What’s this about?” Peter asked bluntly, swallowing heavily.

“It’s about you, Peter, about your late wife, and who she really was.”

Peter’s gaze went red as Stiles laid a hand on his back to settle him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your wife was not who you thought she was, Peter. Your bond with her wasn’t real, at least not at first.”

“What are you talking about?” Peter growled now, low and dangerous. “What do you mean?” Peter’s fingers folded into fists and he could no longer feel the claws gouging his palms.

“She was sent to you for one purpose and one purpose alone. I’m so sorry to tell you this, but she was sent to you for your DNA. It’s DNA that’s been used for all manner of evil, including in the creation of the wolves you now hunt.”

The roar that echoed through the hospital was heard and felt for miles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are right now four more chapters to come. I’m updating the number of chapters because this one took a darker swing than I intended. Again, I’m sorry. I’ll try to update again tomorrow or the day after. I’m also now on [Tumblr](https://deislandgirl-blog.tumblr.com/) Come say hi...


	8. . . . Time to Pay the Piper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter receives details of his late wife’s duplicity; Danny’s body is found and the Stanford Pack rushes to Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I’m keeping the comments to a minimum because this story now hurts like hell. This chapter is a little shorter.

Stiles didn’t realise he was holding onto Peter till his arms literally began to ache. He was holding on to him that tightly and also blocking the shocks that were reverberating from his mate to the pack. They’d all been through enough of a ringer today. Stiles didn’t know how much more any of them could bear.

The door crashed open, and Maria stood there, eyes blazing and claws ready for damage at Peter’s earlier roar. “What are you doing to him,” she growled, ready to defend her Alpha, Malia and Lydia close behind.

Angelina held out a calming hand telling them to wait.

“That can’t be true,” Peter was shaking his head frantically and holding on to Stiles unable to believe what they were saying to him. “How? Why?” Stiles wasn’t sure his mate even knew anyone else had entered the room.

“To understand that you need background of our Realm. Our previous ruler, Baptiste, was a vindictive man, no surprises there. Our realm deals in wagers, barter, secrets, information, favours . . . The more complicated and dangerous, the better. There are a lot of people out there who want what they want and don’t consider consequences. Anyone who reneged on a deal with Baptiste felt his wrath through his hounds. But he also wanted to have greater weight at the High Council’s table; felt they took him too lightly. He began making deals in exchange for lives. Someone didn’t fulfil an oath and he’d take their first born, their most loved niece, their brother, mother, whomever. He began to see it as a way to control the supernatural population, and people began to fear his deals. If he could gather enough, he was sure the High Council would elevate his rank.”

Angelina continued the story. “Unknown to us, one of the deals he made was with a Seer. He wanted information that only she could provide, and she wanted revenge for a wrong done to her and hers. So she gave him something we could not foresee. She gave him information of you, Duinerth. He began to scour the earth looking for you. It was how the Hales first came into his purview. He learnt that one day you, Peter Hale, would be the mate of this Breton, the most power of magic the earth has ever seen.

“You see the thing you don’t know is that you two could only ever belong to each other. You balance each other out in a way no one else can.” Her eyes drifted with sorrow to Stiles. “When we found out . . . the Seer was afraid of the future Baptiste was mapping and came to us, confessed what she’d done in haste and anger. Your mother was sick at the time and you’d started to be felt – mere ripples that were ignored. Before that, the Seer was very careful not to look too hard for you. When your mother died, your signature was so unique . . . I’m sorry Duinerth, but we had no choice then, we . . .”

“You bound me,” Stiles said flatly.

“We had no choice. If he couldn’t find you, if no one could find you, we thought you’d be safe. We all would. We couldn’t afford for him or anyone to make a deal that would put you in his hands. He didn’t have the power to just take. There had to be a deal, an arrangement, a contract, and your dad lost it for a while there, so yes, we bound you, and hid you and removed all information about you from the minds of everyone who knew. Including myself, until such time as you rose again.”

“So he couldn’t find me and he went after Peter, because Peter cancels me out.”

Rubekkah nodded. “He orchestrated an attack. The Bryces.”

Peter went still. This was the pack that ultimately led to the deaths of his parents. “They got my parents involved and killed.”

“I don’t think he expected that to turn out the way it did. He tried to use the Calaveras to get your parents to make a deal to save that pack, but your parents were willing to go to war over it. Nothing went according to plan, including the deaths of your parents. Talia went rogue, Gerard got involved and it was a veritable mess of a situation, but you were both still safe . . .  and then you came back to Beacon Hills and met Amanda Cleary. In seven months, you were ‘mated’,” Rubekkah deliberately used quotation marks with her fingers, “and married.”

“It can’t be true. I felt the bond between us. I know I did.”

“Magic, Peter. The most powerful kind. Magic of the Realm. We didn’t know until it was too late that one of our own had been corrupted as well, had made a deal with Baptiste for a woman he wanted. It’s why he went along with this gathering of DNA with which Baptiste then hoped to create special races, immune to the influences of those that existed, even the Realm. Needless to say we finally caught on and stopped him,” Angelina confessed.

“Or so you thought. Peter, I think Amanda did fall in love with you, because after the initial supply of what they were asking, she refused anything else. The next we heard of her, she’d been eliminated by a pack of wolves.”

“The Alpha Pack,” Peter whispered. He was cold; so cold. “It was a hit.”

Rubekkah swallowed and nodded. “It was. I’m sorry.”

“How could the Realm not have known all this was happening?” Lydia said from the door, appalled and afraid.

“The powers of the Realm are not cut and dried. The people who exist there are the most powerful in their own worlds. Powerful beings always have the abilities to hide themselves and sometimes even their intentions. We’ve gotten better at policing everyone, but occasionally it all goes to shit and we have to punish our own, which is what was done with Salaman, the mage who’d teamed up with Baptiste. He was stripped of his power and cast out and Baptiste was eliminated.

“As far as we knew, that was the end of it. But it seems someone was quietly rebuilding behind the scenes. We didn’t know until these wolves started turning up that the experiments had started again. Peter’s DNA was at the scene of every attack so far, so we suspected. This attack on Stiles solidified it. Either Salaman is active again, has somehow found a way to regain his strength, or we’re dealing with something even worse.”

“I still don’t understand why Peter? Why would Peter’s DNA have this effect when Stiles is linked to him, it makes no sense. Stiles should be able to track such a thing, right? Why would they want Peter’s genes knowing this?” Maria argued.

Stiles shivered. Rubekkah and Angelina exchanged a silent look. “I think whoever is doing this is attempting to change the course of the future. Because in another decade, Peter is supposed to ascend to a seat on the High Council, as the Alpha of Alphas. And eventually Stiles will be my successor.”

A shocked silence fell over the room.

++++++

Laura stumbled. The pain, oh the pain was great, like her centre was being ripped out.

She’d been overseeing damage done to the home of one her Elders’, Chris’ home. She’d sent a message to Eric for the other Elders. If this was an attack on the pack, she needed everyone warned and safe.

She was in a conversation with one of the responders about the depth of damage when she felt Danny’s panic along the pack bond. Her newest beta, he was still getting accustomed to his connection to members of the pack and sometime he inadvertently let an emotion out that wasn’t meant for any of them. I’d been a source of amusement for the pack whenever he and Jordan had been engaged in their more vigorous activities together. The pack had learnt and felt more than they wanted to, until the young man had learnt to control it. But now and then he still slipped.

This though, this was no slip. She doubled over. Danny was in trouble. Danny was dying.

She was blocking the pack bond and running before the responder could even ask what was wrong.

++++++

Parrish glanced at the image on his phone. He didn’t know who this was and dammit, Danny wasn’t answering his phone. After news had come back that the Prince was going to be ok, John had joined him at the Hale residence and they were off to seek questions from their captive.

John was walking the room as the man’s eyes followed him fearfully. Jordan simply sat, straddling a chair, with his head resting against his arms curled over the back of it. He simply allowed his eyes to glow and said nothing. He felt a little foolish, truth be told, but it had been John’s idea to scare the truth out of the shooter.

“Now you say you delivered the requested goods to a prearranged location and just left them there. You’d never seen who collects them but yet you’re afraid of him.”

“Look, I’ve told you all I know. All we did was follow orders. They peeled Johnny’s skin from his flesh like it was nothing and didn’t even touch him. I wasn’t gonna play around with these people. Plus they’ve got those blood crazy wolves.” The shooter visibly shuddered.

“You keep saying these people. How many did you interact with?” John’s eyes were hard, unyielding.

“Man, I told you. We didn’t interact with no one. It was just a voice on the phone and he knew things and could do things. I wasn’t gonna mess with that. I don’t care who he was working with, I just wanted to do as they asked and get done with it.”

John held out his phone with the picture pulled up on the screen. “Have you ever seen this man before?”

The man shook his head vigorously. “I don’t know who that is. I don’t know nuttin else.”

John put the picture away disappointed. “So why shoot Victoria?”

“I had my orders. I was just following orders. They said get rid of the broad and someone else would take care of her husband and kid. That’s all I know.”

At that Jordan finally sat up. He exchanged a look with John and left the room quickly. He had to find Laura and Chris, Allison and Victoria, because the first two attacks had failed but he had a feeling whomever was behind all this wasn’t done with the Argents yet. Not by a long shot.

++++++

The cleaner started screaming and wouldn’t stop.

The room was a complete disaster, computers smashed, chairs upended, and blood, so much blood. But the most gruesome off it was the young man – she’d met him once or twice when he worked late and he’d been so sweet. Now he was lying there in the centre of the floor as if on display – eyes wide open, mouth ajar in a silent scream, and with bloody trails from his eyes, nose and ears.

She felt such pity, mixed with horror. Who would have done this? And were they still in the building?

She screamed louder.

++++++

Chris held his daughter tight, shaking. He’d almost lost his wife and daughter in the same day and still had no idea why, but he now knew that when Stiles had disappeared like a shot, it’d been to rescue his daughter from danger. And that the young Breton had been seriously wounded in the process. For that he would forever be grateful.

Victoria lay in bed, tears on her face as she watched them embrace but couldn’t participate. Doctor had left strict orders or he would rescind visitors’ access.

“Scott and Stiles got the worst of it. It didn’t touch me because they shielded me.”

“How’s Scott?”

Allison rubbed tears from her face and brushed the back of her hand beneath her nose. Her dad handed over a cloth from his back pocket. “Thanks.” She scrubbed her nose. “He’s pain, but alive. He has a few scratches and scrapes. That beast was huge and it just kept coming, even after Stiles blasted it. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Chris felt panic claw up his throat and struggled to remain calm. _Had the animals followed him home somehow?_ He’d never forgive himself if he’d put his family in danger like this.

He held Allison tighter, despite her protests.

++++++

They were on the road, but Boyd couldn’t relax. The van he’d borrowed from his boss came in handy. He’d told the man that a family emergency had come up and he might have to postpone their upcoming trip for a while. Vance had surprisingly been very understanding. It shouldn’t have been surprising, but he’d expected more push back. He knew what the trip meant to the growth of the company. It had also been a hint at promotion for himself.

The news that one of his family had been seriously hurt and hospitalised however, had his boss hustling him off the Skype chat to pack and see to his family. “Vernon, you’re one of my most dedicated employees. I know what this is like, so take care of your family first. The trip can wait, and if it can’t you’ll join us when you can.”

Boyd had been too emotional to respond with anything but a choked up thanks. Just then Chase had come in to tell him he’d checked with three rental companies and no one had a vehicle in stock to transport them all and also strap Chase’s bike on. Vance had immediately chimed in with an offer of his wife’s SUV. It was a 12-seater with a rack on the roof.

So they had transport and destination. Now was to get them all there safely and in one piece.

Evie finally had tired herself out enough to sleep, but refused to be put in her chair or be released from her mother’s arms. So Erica had been forced to watch the others pack up, giving quiet directions as she too called in a leave of absence from work. Anytime she attempted to lay the sleeping cub down, she immediately began screaming in fear. It would be a while yet until they could settle the pup who had yet to shift back to her full human form and lose the wolf ears.

The twin had also been subdued, but a little more helpful in the packing once they realised they weren’t being left behind. Boyd realised he and Peter would need to have a long talk with the two. Despite being a part of the pack, it seemed they still believed themselves expendable and easily abandoned. That was not happening, no way, no how and they needed to be reassured of it. But later.

Derek was driving and every so often Boyd would see his gaze shifting between the road and the rearview mirrors as if he was expecting an attack at any moment from any angle.

++++++

John shook when the call came in. Laura was despondent as she’d asked if Jordan was near. When he’d responded in the negative, she’d broken down and began sobbing.

The Sheriff’s hands, for the first time since Laura took over, uncontrollably sprouted claws. Laura was still blocking the pack from feeling what had happened. She did not want Parrish to know just yet and he couldn’t blame her for that.

His phone began to buzz again and when he looked at the screen he noted his office was calling. He told Laura he was on his way and answered the call already knowing what it would be about. The dispatcher spoke in soft hesitant tones, not sure if the hound was near or even how to tell the Sheriff that his deputies were on their way to the scene of an apparent murder.

He immediately felt choked up and inadequate to deal with what was to come. So he dialled Lydia. Hopefully Rubekkah was still near.

++++++

The phone fell from Rubekkah’s fingers as all the supernaturals in the room went deathly still.

“What?” Lydia said panicked. She was the only one without supernatural hearing to have overheard John’s call. Just the tone of John’s voice when he’d called had been a clue that something had gone terribly wrong and on a day when it seemed everything was going to hell without the handbasket, she wasn’t sure if she could handle more bad news.

Rubekkah’s eyes turned red – blazing hot and fiery, as she stalked out of the room. Angelina stood still. She turned to the Prince and they seemed to communicate.

“Go, before it’s too late.” And the Queen vanished with Stiles’ words.

Peter now was the one giving his mate comfort, rubbing soft hand up and down his arms as Stiles swallowed time and again, looking paler by the minute.

“Stiles?” Lydia felt her heart begin to pound. The silence was stifling.

“Danny,” her friend responded with difficulty. “Danny’s dead.”

Lydia’s hand sprung to her mouth. _How’d she not known? Why did she not feel it? Why’d her banshee powers fail her this time?_

++++++

Malia stood there not sure what to do, how to feel, or even if she was welcomed in this place. Was she also the result of an experiment with Peter’s DNA? It hurt how much she wanted to know the answer to that question, but hated the thought of finding out.

++++++

Stiles moved to get out of the bed.

“No, you stay. We’ll need you later. There’s nothing you can do for him now. Laura’s holding the bond,” Peter said, throat still raw.

Stiles paused. It was hard, but Peter was right. “She’ll need you. She’ll need both of you,” he said, looking at Lydia as well. “Remember what I taught you about bonds, help her. I can’t now. Go quickly.”

Peter leaned over and held him. “I’m sorry. I know he was your friend. I love you, with everything in me.”

“I know. I love you too. You have to go.”

As Peter walked out and scented Maria, he issued an order, “Guard him.” To his daughter, he squeezed her hand briefly and controlled his emotions with brute force, “I know this is a lot to take in. None of this is your fault, please know that. We’ll talk later. I promise.”

Malia’s eyes were still wide and teary when she nodded.

Stiles waited until he felt his mate enter the elevator and then broke down.

++++++

Rubekkah arrived at the entrance to the hospital and almost ran pass her son coming through the doors.

She just looked at him but when she opened her mouth nothing came out except a sob.

“Mom?” Parrish rushed forward to hold his mother as her skin started to heat.

++++++

Aviur found Hal at the pools. His leader had sent for him near 20 minutes ago, but it had taken the minions a while to track the hound down.

He sauntered in prepared for another reaming about his behaviour on earth. He was still smarting from the first one and had tried since then to keep himself off the radar. He could admit now that he’d been hasty in his actions, but he would not apologise for wanting the best for his son and that half-breed was not it. He had a right to protect his lineage.

“You rang,” he said, every bit as dry as the desert he’d been traversing when he received the summons.

Hal looked at him for a moment before he rippled the pond with a finger and said, “A new soul has been tossed into the Abyss, one I thought you’d want to know about.”

“Really? And why would I be concerned about a soul in the Abyss. Only earthly souls go there and there is no one on that realm that belongs to me. I know my son still lives,” Aviur said sharply. _Was this some kind of test? A trick?_ His ruler, he knew was not above his games occasionally.

“Your son’s mate has been taken from him,” Hal said bluntly, and Aviur felt the shock in his core. “Now the question is, Aviur, do you plan to do anything about it? Do you care to wager for his soul?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to yell at me or come ask wth on [Tumblr](https://deislandgirl-blog.tumblr.com) . I’m now there. 
> 
> Up next - “Chapter 9 - The Sins of Our Fathers”


	9. The Sins of Our Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aviur has a choice to make; Parrish goes a “little” crazy and Laura tries to hold her pack together; but the mysterious man isn’t done with the Hales yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for clarity, I think I need to explain that one does not become a hell hound because one lives in the Underworld. It is comprised of various types of beings, but the hounds are the hunters of the realm and also the most highly ranked of individuals, unlike in other realms where they are simply treated as blood hounds. So Aviur is a hell hound and so are his wife and son. Hal is something else entirely – he is the equivalent of the Cerberus.

Aviur looked at Hal as if he’d lost his mind. _Wager for the half-breed? Really? When this should be the perfect solution to reclaiming his son?_ But knowing the ruler of the Underworld, Aviur knew there was more here he was just not seeing. _Hal was up to something, but what?_

The Abyss was where supernatural souls of earth, who died lingered until Fate decided what to do with them. Some were lucky enough to have lived a good life and be released into an after-life of luxury and good fortune; others released to the Underworld to serve as slaves for their misdeeds, and yet others reassigned because Fate had determined they had unfinished business.

“Why should I be interested in saving his soul or even bartering for it? He means nothing to me,” Aviur tested, but Hal merely smiled.

“If you’re certain; I just thought I’d ask,” the man continued to smile, showing off the handsome dimples that for thousands of years had led many a woman to barter their very souls. His eyes however, gave nothing away. “Let me know if you change your mind. You have 24 hours before he’s lost to earth forever, and another 24 before even us can’t touch him.”

Aviur hesitated. “So if I was interested in bartering for him, what would be the asking price?”

Hal laughed then, outright. “Aviur, my friend, you know it doesn’t work that way. The price is determined by the weight or value of the item in question – its value specifically to the client at the time the deal is made, you know this.

“As I said, let me know if you change your mind; I have a meeting to attend. It seems the Queen has also requested an audience about the Mahealani wolf, but of course if one of my realm was interested, that person would get first choice. Well, good night, Aviur, and pleasant dreams.”

The man stood from the pool of shadows, brushed off his silken black robes and walked away whistling an off-beat tune.

Aviur’s thoughts meanwhile were going a mile a minute. If Queen Angelina had asked for an audience about the wolf, was she going to barter for the boy? In all the years of the Realm’s existence, this was unheard of. But Hal had hinted that the choice was first and foremost his, even above the Realm.

The ruler was the only one who could see into the Abyss or pull someone from it, but even his powers were limited by time. After 48 hours the soul was lost forever, unless the fates determined the character of the individual it good enough or important enough to history to be reincarnated in another life.

Aviur had some thinking to do and little time to consider it. He had to make this situation work to his advantage, maybe it’d bring his son back to him and his wife home.

++++++

Laura paced outside. After the deputies had arrived they’d cordoned off the place as they began their investigations. The Sheriff was on his way but that was little consolation to Laura, whose nostrils were filled with too many scents to isolate the one that did this.

She’d arrived to find a few frantic cleaning staff, rushed into the room and knew by the display of the body and the symbol drawn in his blood at his feet that this was a warning somehow for Beacon Hills. She’d felt such a foreboding in that moment that her control had almost slipped. Now that would have been catastrophic.

Within moments John was there, as was Peter and Lydia, the latter running to embrace her Alpha in a full body hug, squeezing her tight. Laura felt a calm start to engulf her and knew it was her Emissary working her limited magic.

“Jordan still doesn’t know?” Lydia asked, but knew the answer before she’d even finished the question. Laura merely shook her head as Lydia nodded her understanding. “I can help you hold the bond until we figure out how to break the news.”

Her Alpha nodded again. Peter stepped forward and squeezed Laura’s neck in comfort. “What do you know?”

“It was bad, Peter. He was so scared and I couldn’t get to him fast enough. There wasn’t even any warning that a threat was in the territory. There was no warning,” she said, voice breaking. “Whoever did this left him for us to find. Displayed as a message but I don’t know if it’s for the pack, for the county, I just don’t know and how it’s linked to everything else that’s happening. John’s inside now so he’ll probably be able to tell us more about how he was killed.”

She turned broken eyes to her uncle. “Did I leave him unprotected, Peter? I should have done more, prepared him to fight better. Oh God, Jordan . . .”

“Shhh,” Peter pulled her into his arms, engulfed with his own share of pain and guilt that part of this now fell on his shoulders. If he’d only looked beyond the pretty face maybe he’d have been able to tell his wife was working against him. All those years and he’d never known, never suspected.

++++++

John looked down at the body and shuddered. He felt a wave of grief wash through him at the absolute fear on Danny’s face and felt himself acutely aware of how increasingly dangerous his life had becoming in the past two years.

It had been dangerous under Talia, but he’d also had on blinkers then that he refused to wear now. Yes this life brought benefits, like family, pack, the wonders of magic, but it all came packed with violence, blood, guts and danger.

His own son had almost lost his life earlier, something he’d admit now standing here transfixed by the bloody scene before him, something that he’d convinced himself would not happen. Stiles was now the most powerful mage on earth, or on any realm, or so they had thought until now. He should have been able to fend off any attack, reduce any threat to ash. They’d all become comfortable with what Stiles was able to do.

But now there was someone else out there who seemed more powerful and more dangerous and who might be after his family. And he could do very little about it. He was just a wolf, like Danny. John scrubbed a hand down his face.

Danny had always been such a quiet lad, but the way he’d stood up for Stiles had revealed the lengths he’d go through for those who meant a lot to him. He’d become a close friend to Stiles, but he knew the young man had struggled with his own place in the pack since the visit by Parrish’s father. John still cringed at the harsh words the man had uttered against his own son.

He remembered a time not so long ago when he’d checked out on his own son. When he’d allowed Stiles to call the shots, make the decisions in the family because he’d been too weak as a man to make the effort. A time when he’d sat back and tried to keep the peace and not upset the balance for the sake of this town.

It had taken a rude awakening for the shame to settle in his being. Shame at the knowledge of how far he’d let things go to keep the peace. Shame that he’d pretty much sacrificed his son, his only family, for the sake of his job. He’d vowed then that he’d never step aside and let his son get hurt again, yet while he’d been elsewhere, his son had been attacked and was now in hospital recovering.

He’d failed again.

As he took one last look at the body being covered by the coroner, he recognised that failure this time could cost him his son, but he was powerless to do much about it. His hand strayed to his weapon on his hip, a cold, fading comfort.

He couldn’t stop this with a gun . . . but he would sure as hell try.

++++++

Braeden was torn. She’d expected to find Malia’s mother in short order and she’d done that. Already knew who the woman was and wasn’t surprised to find she was in Beacon Hills. What did surprise her was the other information that had started to pop up in her searches. The name Amanda Cleary had surfaced and not in a way that brought Braeden the littlest bit of comfort.

How the hell would she tell Peter she’d managed to track down a trail to his wife and what was at the end of that trail was a secret so heinous that it made even her very mercenary soul cringe. She hadn’t intended to leave a trail of bodies when Peter had given her this investigation. In fact, she’d been looking forward to just putting her investigative skills to work and keeping the rest of her ‘talents’ under wraps. Then she’d found Malia’s mother’s trail. It had led to the same man – Amanda’s father.

The man had practically sold his daughter into a mob to save his own skin. It was how she’d ended up with the job or luring Peter to her – a mixture of magic and intrigue. But then something had changed, and by all indications, Amanda had stopped responding to threats and summons from her “handlers”. Maybe she’d figured being married into a werewolf pack was security enough. She’d been stupid and careless and just plain dumb not to have confessed to Peter, because then it left the family wide open; left Peter vulnerable. And invariably caused her own death and Peter’s exile.

She’d put a bullet in Amanda’s father’s brain before she left the vengeful, boastful man. He had the audacity to blame Amanda for all that had transpired, for breaking his deal – after everything he’d done. It brought up too many memories for her to have allowed him to live.

Braeden wasn’t certain how much of her assignment Amanda had completed, but she knew something had been handed over to the mob, which apparently had been decimated some time later in a most bloody manner. Then a search had started for Malia, when it’d come to the attention of whomever had orchestrated the DNA gathering, that Peter had fathered a child. By then Malia and her mother had been on the run, but something had happened, and somehow Malia hand ended up in the hands of these people. At least she could reassure Peter that Malia was his daughter, but he needed to keep his eye on her because whoever this man was, he wanted Malia almost as badly as he wanted Peter himself.

It was frustrating how much she still couldn’t piece together. It was like she was dealing with a ghost. There were hints that someone behind the scenes was definitely pulling strings, but she could not for the sake of her see behind the curtain, and she was damn good at what she did.

She needed to speak with Peter, and soon. She needed to warn him that whoever was doing this wasn’t done. In fact, the faceless, shapeless villain had even the most vicious of criminals fearful of finding out his identity and this was what gave Braeden pause.

She needed to get to Beacon Hills and fast.

++++++

Malia sat on her bed, knees drawn to her chest. She’d felt guilty remaining at the hospital, not certain she should be anywhere near Stiles right now. The man had been attacked by the wolves she’d had contact with.

Everywhere she went some tragedy followed. It was one of her biggest fears with Harriet, that she’d somehow get the woman hurt trying to help her. But the trouble hadn’t followed her to Harriet, it’d followed her here to Beacon Hills.

She didn’t know how Peter could stand to look at her after what he’d been told earlier this afternoon. She was likely nothing more than another experiment with the man’s DNA. She felt a sudden disgust with herself. At least she now knew where she’d come from.

And she knew she needed to leave. She’d brought nothing but trouble here since she came.

++++++

Parrish howled.

His vision swam, he felt hot and cold and disoriented, but mostly he felt bereft. His mother had to be wrong. His skin felt tight, achy. He hadn’t given him the bite – the mating bite that would have bound them together for life, tangibly. Despite Danny being ready, Parrish had hesitated. He’d wanted Danny to be sure, knew that the young man was still conflicted after everything with Parrish’s father.

Parrish thought his mother being here would finally convince Danny that all was well. He couldn’t be dead. He’d know if Danny was dead. Mating bite or not he’d know. He’d know . . .

When he began to run it barely registered that someone was calling his name almost fearfully. He left the light behind and melded into the shadows where he was more at home.

_Was fate finally catching up with him? Was this his punishment?_

Hell hounds were bloody creatures and not always moral ones – seldom moral ones. _Was this payback for years of blood on his hands?_

He couldn’t think. Could do nothing but run and howl.

++++++

Stiles sat up when he felt a shiver run down his spine. Seconds later Rubekkah was standing in his doorway, fear in her eyes.

“Prince, I think I need your help,” she said, gasping.

“Jordan . . .” he said with certainty. “Where?”

“He’s taken to the shadows now. I can’t afford for him to hurt anyone in his state. Please help me. I don’t think he can hear me anymore.”

“My senses are dull at best, Rubekkah. I don’t know how much help I will be.” At the fallen look on her face, he quickly added, “But I will try.”

He slid from the bed and began to dress. Peter would understand him having to break his promise. Just then the door opened and Maria stood in the doorway with arms folded, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“I have to find him, Maria. We can’t afford for Jordan to be out there in his condition.”

The woman considered for a moment, then added, “I’m coming with you. No way in hell am I telling Peter I allowed you to go off on your own.”

Stiles sighed but nodded.

++++++

It wasn’t everyday one was summoned by the Queen of the Realm and Hal relished the moment. He stalked the halls with his head held high and a cocky smirk on his lips, knowing that finally he had something valuable to others.

Within moments of arriving at the Queen’s private office, he was ushered into the opulent chambers.

“Hal, welcome. Thank you for coming at such short notice,” Angelina said, rising to shake the Under-lord’s hand.

“I couldn’t very well ignore a summons as important as this one, could I? It doesn’t exactly happen every day,” Hal smiled, and he knew it set Angelina’s back up, but he was determined to enjoy this feeling of power, for now.

“And right you are. Please sit. Can we offer you something to drink perhaps?”

“No, thank you. But I wouldn’t mind a few of those peaches you have up here. They are the most succulent things I’ve ever tasted,” he paused, “if it’s not too much trouble.” And there was that smile again.

Angelina tried not to grimace. “Of course, no trouble.” She pressed a button on her desk and less than ten seconds later the door behind her opened and in walked a man carrying a tray of peaches. “I remembered you found them pleasing last time, so I had a few prepared just in case.”

Hal chuckled to hide the fact that he’d been taken off-guard for a brief second with the Queen anticipating his request. He always wondered if she could read the minds of those beneath her. She never let on one way or another but it was still something that niggled at the back of his mind each time they were in the same room.

He took a peach and bite deep, allowing the juice to coat his throat as he moaned obscenely. “So good.”

A flicker of something crossed the Queen’s face but her posture remained serene. What he wouldn’t give to rattle her just once.

“Let’s get down to business shall we?” she said with a smile. “I believe you’re aware of why I’ve asked for this meeting?”

“It’s about the wolf, the hound’s mate,” he sucked the juice from his fingers before reaching for one of the napkins on the tray and wiping spit and juice away. His eyes were still on his fingers, but he paid attention to every expression on the Queen’s face, which at the moment was still surprisingly blank.

“Yes, Mr. Mahealani was taken before his time, and I know time is of the essence in situations like this.”

Now they were entering Hal’s favourite territory – favours.

“Is the Realm interested in bartering for the wolf? This is virtually unheard of and most curious. What is your interest in this case?”

“He has significant value to Earth’s realm, and his lifeline was cut before it should have been. Someone is meddling in things they shouldn’t be,” she said and continued slowly, “And I believe you know of whom I speak.”

Hal swallowed. “If you are seeking information, Angelina, you must be aware it will cost you.”

And the Queen smiled. It was the smile that unsettled him. Coming to him for a favour should have left her uneasy, even fearful of his price, but she was still the picture of confidence and calm. He preferred his wagers made under duress, stress and fear. People who went into deals such as these with eyes wide open were the most dangerous. He was even now wondering if he’d missed something. _Had he underestimated the value of the young wolf? Or was it that what he thought the Realm wanted was nowhere near the reality?_

“I think you and I both know, Hal, that if this latest crisis is being orchestrated from the regions that I believe it is, you have just as much to lose as I do. I still remember what your time was like under your father. Baptiste’s reign was vicious, brutal and bloody. Noone wants to see a return of those days, but if things continue at this pace, none of us will be safe. So I ask you, what is more important, the health of our respective Realms and places in it, or your barter?”

Hal dropped the napkin onto the tray and just stared at the woman before him. The silence stretched but still she didn’t waver.

“What do you have in mind, Angelina, and bear in mind that I’ve already made an offer to Aviur, one I will have to honour if he decides to take it up. The boy has about 36 hours left in the Abyss before the Fates do what they want with him. What do _you_ want?”

“I want to know who put him there and how we get him back without putting our respective Realms on the line.”

++++++

In a dark room, devoid of light, sound, and barely a scent like scorched earth, he sat looking at the glowing map of Beacon Hills. His pieces were falling into play beautifully. His father would be proud. He’d make his father proud and they’d pay for what they did to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next three chapters will conclude the series and from Chapter 10 – Reap What You Sow, we’ll get into the real battle in Beacon Hills. I've finished 10, now to edit and will finish 11 before end of the day. So those posts will be quick this week. I'm also now on [Tumblr](https://deislandgirl-blog.tumblr.com)... And thank you AzureBlueEspeon.


	10. Reap What You Sow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stanford Pack arrives as the threat reveals himself and unleashes a world of hurt on Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last couple scenes of this chapter are **VIOLENT**. The real fighting begins and it’s descriptive and bloody. Hope you enjoy.

Derek pulled the van up to the side of the house. He was tired. He, Boyd and Chase had taken turns chauffeuring the pack to Beacon Hills and keeping watch at their backs for any sign of trouble. It had been a relatively quiet journey, even if tension-filled. But they’d made it safely.

Night had fallen about an hour ago, but as he threw the vehicle into park, the door opened and his sister stood on the porch watching him. At his tilt of the head and his frown in question, a broken whine sounded from Cora’s throat and she came barrelling down the steps. He immediately stepped out of the vehicle and into a massive, crushing hug from Cora, who buried her face in his neck, trembling. _She’d gotten so tall these past years._

“Hey,” he said alarmed as his eyes began to glow, but he just held her tight. “I’m here. It’s ok.”

“Danny’s gone,” she said on a sob and promptly burst into tears against his chest. Derek held her as she cried, jerking his head to the others to take the younger pups into the house so they wouldn’t get overly tense again at the flood of grief and sorrow on the air.

When she’d calmed enough, he asked, “What happened? Where’s Laura, and Parrish?”

“John says it’s likely he was killed by whoever is commanding the wolves. Laura’s with the Elders, filling them in and seeking their counsel,” she sniffled. “Stiles is out looking for Jordan who ran off when his mother told him what happened to Danny. Everything’s so mess up, Der. They say Aunt Amanda was a traitor.”

Derek’s back went straight rigid. “What?” Derek pulled back to look at his younger sister.

“They said she was planted to steal Uncle Peter’s DNA and that’s what was used to make the wolves so strong. One bit Stiles and they said it did something to his magic, and the Nemeton isn’t responding to anyone anymore, it’s all such a mess, Der,” she burrowed back into his arms, which closed around her automatically as Derek tried to process everything he was being told.

Amanda had been their favourite aunt. _How could she have done what they were saying she did? That wasn’t possible. God, hadn’t Peter been through enough? Hadn’t they all?_

He looked up as a noise came to his attention. Laura now stood in the door too, her eyes red and tired looking. He removed one hand from around Cora and simply opened it. His sister almost tripped her way down the steps and into his arms. The three Hales just held each other, waiting for the pain to stop.

++++++

The hound watched them with blazing red eyes, massive body partially melded into the shadows of the trees. Stiles held up hands in a peaceful gesture. “Jordan, it’s me. It’s Stiles. I need you to calm down buddy.”

“Honey,” Rubekkah started forward, but stopped when Stiles stretched a waving hand in her direction, indicating she should halt all movement. Rubekkah silently chastised herself. In his current state her son would likely not even recognise when he ripped her apart. Stiles was right, patience. They had to be patient in coaching Jordan back to himself.

The hound growled at the three. His mind was a haze of _pain.anger.revenge._ It wanted its mate. _Why was its mate not coming?_ It threw back its head and howled again.

A tear ran down Rubekkah’s cheek at the sight of her son, disoriented and in pain. If he attacked she’d have no choice but to protect the prince and wolf, and it could get bloody. Please, don’t make her have to harm her own son.

“Jordan? It’s Prince Duinerth. You used to be my mom’s bodyguard; remember Claudia? Remember the Princess? I need you to hear me buddy. Please Jordan. Your mother’s here,” Stiles said again, gesturing to Rubekkah as Maria moved even closer to him, her eyes deadly still on the hound.

Despite his friendship with Stiles, she wouldn’t hesitate to jump into the fray if it meant protecting her pack Emissary. Peter would lose it if anything else happened to Stiles today.

The hound growled again and lowered its head, starting to show teeth. A heavy sob came from Rubekkah and the wind picked up, blowing through the Preserve where they were. It blew Rubekkah’s hair into her face and carried her scent toward her son.

 _That smell._ It knew _that smell._ The hound shook its head and snorted like a raging bull. _That was the smell of family._ It shook its massive head again and pinned the woman with a stare. _It knew this woman, didn’t it?_ She smelled like family. Family . . . the thought sent a rippling pain through his heart. _Family . . ._

Parrish whined as his body started to materialise before them. Rubekkah stepped forward carefully, hopeful. “Baby? Baby, are you really there?”

They heard the cracks and pops of bone rearranging, reforming. Parrish stumbled on human legs, face bewildered, “Mom?” he uttered, and collapsed.

++++++

“People are turning up missing. As of this morning, 8,” John said, tone tired and acerbic. “I thought we only had to worry about supernaturals being taken. Why’s he taking human residents of ours?”

Stiles paced in front his dad, but Peter held his seat.

“What are the chances that he can do what he did to the wolves to humans?” John echoed what each of them were thinking.

Peter felt his chest clinch. If that man, whoever he was, used more of Peter’s genetics, this time on human subject, heaven knows what the result would be. He still didn’t understand why he’d singled out Peter and Stiles in this psychotic little episode of his. Why them? It wasn’t enough to say they were they were tipped to be the ruling couple of the Realm.

“If he can do that, then we’ve a hell of a lot more to worry about than we first did,” Stiles said, frustrated, glancing at Peter when he felt a ripple of something along their bond. It’d been harder to communicate with thoughts as they once did. Lydia was still running tests to determine what about the wolf’s bite had affected him so drastically.

He and Peter didn’t exactly have the most staid of sexual relationships. There’d been scratches and bites before surely, but none had had this impact. _Why would a foreign wolf with Peter’s DNA do this to him?_

“Still nothing from the Nemeton?” Peter queried, seeming to also sense where his thoughts were going.

Stiles shook his head. He still didn’t understand why he’d been left floundering. It explained why Laura also hadn’t picked up about Danny until it was already too late. He’d continue to blame himself for having relied so much on his magic that he let his guard about everything else down. Now it was affecting everyone around him.

He knew without a doubt that there had been more to the bite than anyone thought. He couldn’t say what exactly, but something was blocking his magic, muting his senses and he needed to get to the bottom of it. “I need to go out there. I have to get near to the Nemeton, see if I can pick anything up. In the meantime, we need to start patrolling the town.”

“I’ve already got officers out there,” John said.

“Maybe we should add some of us to them,” Laura suggested. She’d been silent up to that point, keeping one ear on discussions, the other on the house and the unconscious hound in it. Rubekkah was sitting guard over him. “I don’t think any of your officers should patrol alone. It’s time to add our strength to your numbers. If any of your officers encounter any of these wolves they’ll be ripped apart. With our pack, at least they’ll stand a chance to escape and call backup.”

“These aren’t normal wolves, Laura. You could lose pack too,” Peter said.

Laura looked at him. “Tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing. I know you’ve already got Chase, Ethan and Boyd out there running the perimeters and patrolling through town. My pack won’t sit back and expect others to keep us safe. We should be the ones keeping this town safe. These people have protected our way of life for these past two years. We can’t do nothing when they’re now falling prey to something or someone that’s after us and is willing to take anyone else down on the way.”

Peter paused but nodded sharply. He knew his niece was right, but he was afraid. There was such damn fear resting in his chest it felt like it would collapse at times. Fear and guilt.

“Alright, let’s work up a roster,” John said. “I want around the clock eyes until this thing is settled.” And his thoughts went instantly to Danny and the wonders he could work keeping an eye on all the surveillance cameras and more around town. The young man could turn any camera into a spy item. He missed the extra eyes.

“We need eyes on the CCTV monitors around the clock as well. They’d probably pick up any anomalies before the rest of us do,” Stiles added. There was a murmur of acknowledgement as they put their heads together on the new security measures.

“I’m going out to the Nemeton,” Stiles said.

“I’ll go with you,” Peter said immediately, but Stiles shook his head. “You’re of more use here, on the streets.”

“I can’t, I can’t let you out there on your own, Stiles. Not now,” Peter pled.

“I’ll send two of the pack with him,” Laura offered.

“You’re soldiers won’t stand up for long if they’re attacked out there, Laura,” Peter argued.

“Then I’ll go with him,” Chris said from the doorway. “Allison and I will go.”

“Chris,” Laura said startled. “Victoria?”

“Upstairs, across the hall from Jordan. Rubekkah will keep an eye and ear out. Besides,” he looked to Stiles, “we owe you.”

Allison nodded.

++++++

“I don’t know who he is,” Hal said. At the disbelief on Angelina’s face, he added, “It’s the truth. I don’t have a name . . .”

“But?” she prompted, knowing the Cerberus had something up his sleeve that could prove useful.

Hal sighed, “But, his signature is familiar.”

“How familiar?”

“Salaman kind of familiar,” he responded warily and watched her eyes go wide. “I can only tell you what I picked up from the soul of the young man and we have little more than a day now. Maybe you want to give the Beacon Hills Pack the chance to barter for him.”

Angelina’s eyes narrowed to slits. “We’ll come to our options soon enough, don’t get off topic. How’s that possible? Isn’t Salaman still imprisoned on your realm? He was stripped of his powers and banished to the Underworld where he should not have been able to regain those powers.”

Hal paused, then said solemnly, “He’s dead, Angelina.”

Again the shock registered. “What? When?” she whispered.

“Three years or so. He just gave up, I think. The thought of never seeing the light of day again might have been too much.”

“Why was I not informed? What became of his soul?” she asked in a rush now, brain turning on the possibilities. _Could the Fates have been so crazy to have reincarnated the man? Surely not!?_

“He was not reincarnated, if that’s what you’re thinking. There was one request for retrieval that was denied by the Fates and he was immediately disintegrated.”

“A request from whom?”

“I don’t know. It was arranged through a broker.”

“I need the name of the broker.”

“Won’t do you any good. He’s also dead. He and his pack were the first killed.”

Angelina looked at him in disbelief. “You knew. All along you knew and said nothing.”

Hal sighed. “That’s not my place and you know this. You know what my realm is. I cannot interfere with the course of fate, unless the Fates will it.”

“Salaman was working with your father to bring about the destruction of all of us. Now someone else has taken up where they left off and you didn’t think it ‘your place’ to mention this to the High Council? We could have taken measures. Now we have an unknown number of packs that have been killed or imprisoned suffering God knows what fortune and you sit before me saying it was not your place?

“Do you think he’ll stop at Earth? At the destruction of Beacon Hills? He’s only just getting started,” Angelina said as a cold realisation walked down her spine. “I’m sure he’s avenging Salaman’s death. Whoever he is, he bided his time probably thinking he could free him first, but that went awry when Salaman died, now he’s exacting revenge on all of us.”

Her eyes turned to the Under-lord. “You’d better decide and fast whose side you’re on, Hal, because this time there is no sitting on the fence, not with me.”

++++++

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Malia jumped at the voice as the door to her room closed. Maria stood there looking at the young woman with censure on her face.

“I can’t stay here. You’ve seen what’s happened, to Stiles, to Peter, to . . .,” she swallowed, “to Danny and Jordan.”

“And your answer is to what, run away, again? Where will you go? Where will you be safe?” At the conflicted eyes staring back at her, Maria pressed her point home. “Look, so much shit has happened in the last two days alone that it would cause any right-thinking person to fear. But the point of pack is that when there’s fear, you band together. The pack is stronger than any individual out there on their own.”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” Malia said turning away and stripping another top angrily from a hangar in the closet, “I’m not pack. I never was.”

“You’re the daughter of an Alpha and the cousin of another. Whether you accept that or not, that puts you right in the middle of two packs, both with the last name Hale. You can run, but I guarantee all it will do is make your father abandon his duties here, to find you, to keep you safe.”

Malia’s face did something complicated at Maria’s words. “There’s no way he’s letting you slink off into the night, not now. Not with everything that’s been happening these past weeks.”

“But you heard what they said. I’m not even really his daughter. I’m just someone who carries his DNA. I’m no more his daughter than those wolves are his children,” she said, hurt.

“Oh hun, is that what this is about?” Maria blew out a breath and sat on the bed. “Come here,” she patted the mattress next to her. Reluctantly Malia plopped down in front of her. “Even before the results of your test came back this morning, Peter sent someone to New York to investigate, to see if he could help with the memories you are missing. Braeden is your cousin Derek’s mate and she called this afternoon to say she found a trail. Honey, you are Peter’s biological daughter, from a brief relationship he had with your mother in New York. You’re no experiment, Malia. You’re the real deal.

“The reason you’ve been on the run all this time is because these people found out who you were and wanted you. But you’re with us now. You’re pack now and you’re not going anywhere. We protect our own.”

A rush of breath puffed out of Malia and her face scrunched up as the tears came. _She had a father. A real father._ She collapsed forward into Maria’s arms content to sob her heart out.

++++++

The woman screamed as the wolf sunk its teeth into her colleague’s collar bone. They’d opened the door to the lunch room and suddenly this massive creature was bearing down on them both. They’d been working overtime at the printer, getting documents ready for a board meeting at the neighbourhood bank tomorrow. They needed these documents done by 8 a.m. They’d been joking around when they’d opened the door and before she could draw breath the animal was chomping on her friend.

She was frozen to the spot for moment before adrenaline shot through her system and she dropped her lunch bag and started running. The screams of her colleague had died off but she kept running, running and screaming.

She skidded around the corner, the main door to the building in sight, and as she reached for the lock to turn the key that thank heavens was still in the lock, she heard the distinct sound of paws drumming on the tiles coming down the corridor. She was shaking in fear, shaking so much her fingers would not properly grip the key. She was going to die. She was going to be killed by that beast. And they’d all thought they were safer knowing the Hales and what they were capable of. She was going to die before she even told her boyfriend she loved him. She was going to die and she’d be lucky if there was enough for an open casket. The panicked thoughts rolled through her head and she wasn’t aware she was still screaming.

“Move!” she looked up and saw a man on the opposite side of the door, a shotgun pointed in her direction. “Now!”

This time she didn’t hesitate. She dove to the side and seconds later the gun fired off a blast of pellets virtually ripping the door open. The second blast fired seconds behind the first tore into the chest of the animal that was still thundering towards them, wounds healing over instantly.

Her eyes went wide at the sight.

“Out. Out now,” she looked up into the pale face of a young man, face speckled with moles and dimly recognised him as the Sheriff’s son. “Go,” he pushed her behind him and she used what little adrenaline she had left to beat a hasty retreat across the glass littered floor and out the doors. No sooner had she crossed the threshold than it sounded like World War III had kicked off behind her. The rapid fire of the shotgun and what sounded like another weapon, coupled with the growls and snarls of the animal was enough to push more energy into her steps as she fled the office. A younger girl flew pass her heading toward the office with what looked like a bow in hand.

++++++

Chris reloaded as Stiles continued shooting and when Stiles ran out, Chris picked up. They were determined to continue halting the animal’s advance. Just then the swiiing of a bow releasing elicited another scream from the animal as the arrow found purchase in the animal’s shoulder.

“It’s not going down,” Stiles said, “Aim for the head, Ali.”

The hunter nodded and let another rip, straight into the eye of the beast. It roared terribly but remained on its feet. “Keep at the head,” Chris rejoined and all three of them concentrated their fire on the animal’s head. The volley of the assault had stopped its progression and it seemed to be ducking to avoid the hail of bullets to no avail. The beast stumbled once, and then again as Stiles started to advance, dropping his own expended gun at his feet and pulling a revolver to continue shooting.

The wolf stumbled a second time, this time its legs going out from under it and crashing to one shoulder as it skidded on its own blood. And still they continued firing; Stiles reloading and firing again. It stumbled a third and last time, falling to the ground twitching but this time the wounds didn’t heal and it did not move again. Allison shot a last arrow behind the ear and into the brain, just to be certain.

Stiles’ hands fell to his sides as Boyd slid into the office at a run, panting. His eyes raked Stiles then Chris and Allison and back to Stiles, who nodded at him. All was well. They’d finally killed one.

++++++

Cora was closest when the first scream sounded. She’d been walking back to the main house from reassuring one of the families when the sounds of battle reached her followed by the fearful screams of pups.

She was running on a pivot before anyone even opened a door to look out. She rushed into the house, to watch the Halls battling one of the ‘enhanced’ wolves, their cubs protected behind them. The couple were suffering as many injuries as they were delivering, but whereas the wolf’s cuts healed almost instantly, the couple were bleeding badly.

A rage like she hadn’t felt since she’d watched Laura fall to the ground before their mother’s attack engulfed her. She grabbed the closest thing to hand, jerking it form its mooring and swung. She heard the crunch as the guillotine blade sliced into the junction of the beast’s neck and shoulder. The animal stumbled, and it gave Cora enough time to jump onto the nearby chair, use the momentum to push herself off the nearby wall and land feet first onto the back of the guillotine blade, pushing it deeper into the neck and near severing the animal’s head.

The father grabbed a dinner knife from the family’s unfinished meal and brought it down with a fierce roar into the forehead of the animal and it slumped to the side, blood pooling across the living room floor.

Laura flew through the door wolfed out, with Eric a matter of steps behind her. Her breath hitched at the destruction inside the house and she whined as she saw the injuries to her packmates. The Halls turned to their cowering pups, holding out arms as the cubs ran to them with tearful cries.

The Alpha turned to one of the other soldiers who’d arrived just behind them. “Sound the alarm. I want everyone in the main house, now.” The soldier ran off to do her bidding.

Eric rubbed a calming hand down her back. “I’ll call grandpa and get the others to round up the rest of the pack make sure everyone else is safe inside. I think we need the protection of the Realm tonight.”

Laura nodded as he left the house. She moved forward to the Halls, unsure how to offer comfort amidst the guilt. She looked down at the blade embedded in the neck of the animal. The husband was an artist. The guillotine, part of his work. It had saved them tonight.

“Come on, let’s get you patched up and settled up in the house for the night,” she said shakily, clearing her throat and trying to project a confidence she no longer felt. Her pack had been attacked in their own house and she hadn’t known.

The husband nodded and his wife asked, “These are the wolves you were telling us about last night?”

“Yes,” the Alpha replied.

The woman exhaled, nodding through she was still trembling. “Thank God, Miss Cora was there. Or we’d all be dead.” Cora scented one of the trembling cubs, uttering cooing noises and offering comfort. Laura pushed calm into the pack bond and could feel Lydia helping. The trembling started to ease as she and the family left the house and the wolf corpse behind.

As the main house came into view, Laura realised there was someone standing in their path about 100 metres ahead. She stopped and Cora uttered a threatening growl, coming to stand beside her sister, between this stranger and the family that was still recovering from their ordeal.

“Kudos to you, Madame Hale. It’s not easy to kill my pets,” the man said, an eerie mirth in his voice.

Laura growled as her eyes turned red. She allowed her shift to come, but remained in control, watchful, surveying the surroundings for the next attack. She recognised Cora was doing the same.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this? What have we ever done to you?”

“I’m the man that will bring about the ruin of this pack. You Hales have gained the favour of the Realm, and I intend to send them a message for what they did to my family, my pack if you will. By the time I’m done, none of you will be left.”

There was a ripple of magic in the air as Eugene arrived and fired a bolt of energy at the man, who disappeared with a cackle of laughter and a “Farewell now.”

“Let’s get you inside, now,” the High Guard said, as other soldiers of the Realm began to appear.

Snarls sounded from the Preserve as more than a dozen wolves launched themselves from the dark. Laura turned to her pack, many of whom were still leaving their homes with their own children for the main house as per her original orders. At the sight before them, panic began to spread. “Run!” the Alpha yelled at them as she turned to defend her pack.

Screams rend the air as pack members began to frantically race the 300 or so metres to the main house as the Realm’s guards tried to form a barrier between the murderous animals and the vulnerable pack. Eugene blasted one of the animals, as his first soldier fell under the teeth of the brutal beasts, and Laura roared her anger – a call to arms for all who could hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was using a guillotine recently to trim some edges off something and thought wouldn’t this be an inspiring way to kill someone . . . Something must be wrong with me. Everything I think up now goes into my writing. Sigh. Also, I’ve once again extended the number of chapters. I think 14 total.  
> Feel free to say hi on [Tumblr](https://deislandgirl-blog.tumblr.com).


	11. Wolf War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beacon Hills is engulfed in a war with wolves, as both Hale Packs try to preserve their own and the citizens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS of graphic depictions of violence. I should underscore graphic, I really should. If blood, tearing body parts and general violent death bothers you, perhaps this chapter isn’t for you.

As quickly as one soldier fell, another appeared to replace him, but Laura knew sooner or later, the wolves would break through. She glanced to the side to make sure her pack had made it to the mansion, some were still running to the front steps.

She heard the snarl before she felt the teeth sink into her arm. In seconds Eric was there, a spear piercing right through the beast’s head, almost from ear to ear and the clench of jaws on her arm loosened as the animal fell dead.

Eric rushed to her side, stripping her of her jacket and using it to wrap the bloody arm. _What the hell was with these animals and chomping on appendages?_ “You need to get that looked at,” he said, forcing calm into his voice.

“Not until everyone is safe.” She called to the defenders, “Aim for the heads. They are vulnerable in the head.”

The Beacon Hills Pack, it seemed was about to be overrun with these beasts. And the problem was, they could appear anywhere at the drop of a hat. No one was safe, inside or out and that was the point that scared Laura.

++++++

Stiles wiped his face, realising there were specks of blood dotting his skin. “We need to go,” he intoned scrubbing some more with the edge of his t-shirt.

“Do we just leave it here?” Allison asked, looking like she’d like to set it on fire after emptying a few more arrows into the carcass, just to be sure.

“Whatever you’re thinking we don’t have time for it. I need to get to the Nemeton. If I can tap into my powers again, then maybe we can stop these portals. They’d have no choice but to come at us head on then. If this continues then we’re all good as dead,” Stiles reasoned.

“Then let’s go,” Chris said, reloading his weapon and stalking back to their haphazardly parked vehicle.

++++++

The animal swiped at him, opening his arm down to the elbow, but Peter fought on. The family had already lost a son, he would give his last to prevent the same happening to the three girls and their father. The man had run out of bullet, that’s how his son had fallen victim to the first wolf. The second had kept advancing until Peter, after hearing the gunfire on patrol, had crashed through the window, with Maria on his tail.

He’d squared off with the first animal, while Maria took the second, both knowing that the ultimate aim was to protect the family within. “Get to your vehicle and head for the Hale compound or the Sheriff station. Tell anyone you see on the way.” The man bundled his three scared children and ran for their SUV.

What amazed Peter was that his wounds were healing almost as easily as that of the wolf he was fighting, though the wolf healed faster. The animal roared in anger after Peter landed a punch to its head staggering it for a second, and finally allowed his Alpha form transformation. Without pause he clamped massive jaws on the beast’s throat and tore.

The animal was thrashing beneath his jaws but he refused to let go. He leveraged two huge paws on the animal’s chest and pulled, hearing and feeling the pops of muscle and bone beneath his teeth, his jaws filling with the animal’s blood. With one last effort he pulled the throat clear of the body and the animal collapsed.

He heard Maria’s yell and knew he couldn’t delay. He dropped the bone clenched in his teeth and rushed to his beta’s aid. Now he just had to repeat what he’d done. _Easy right?_

++++++

Scott, Boyd and Erica stood guard in the streets, along with several Hale soldiers and a few from the Realm, as residents bundled into their cars or assisted others who didn’t have cars. The idea was to usher everyone to the Sheriff station or the Hale residence and to guard their procession and safe arrival.

The town was antsy. Attacks were coming from all angles and the animals were very hard to kill without some kind of supernatural enhancement.

Boyd looked up to see Peter stalking down the street, a limping, beta-shifted Maria beside him. The Alpha was bloody and his eyes were glowing red. Before Peter’s Second could move, one of the Hale soldiers rushed up to the two, to make sure they were ok.

Behind them the sound of screams and fighting filled the air and even as the soldier tried to see to the Alpha’s wounds, Peter was already running to Chase’s aid.

“Scott!” Boyd yelled at the young man who’d insisted in joining in the security arrangements, “Go help them!” Surprisingly the young beta didn’t argue, just rushed off behind Peter, quickly disappearing into the house. Seconds later he rushed back out with an elderly lady in his arms, yelling for one of the paramedics, who’d just turned up to tend the wounded.

Scott relinquished the woman into care and rushed back to the house, as Boyd turned to his pack mate who looked ready to throw herself into the fight as well, “Maria, no! We need another pair of eyes and ears here.” Truthfully, he just wanted to be able to give the woman time to catch her breath and for her wounds to begin healing.

If she recognised the tactic for what it was, she gave no indication, simply nodded as her eyes continued to scan the street, wondering how many lives they would lose this night.

All around them the air stunk of fear. Blood and fear. Beacon Hills had become Ground Zero and no one was safe.

++++++

He sat back and watched. He’d promised them fear, and they were afraid alright. At will he could conjure a portal to anywhere and send his pets through to wreak their havoc.

But he was nothing if not strategic. The best was yet to come. Wait until they saw what he’d done with the vampires. They were virtually blood starved and the effects of that hunger alone would be a treat to watch.

Maybe he’d send them after the Breton and his hunters, the so-called **_future King of the Realm_**. _It burned._ That was to be his position. He was supposed to lead when his father’s new order came in to being. His father had got involved with the Under-lord after Baptiste had discovered his affair with the fairy, a woman whose life his father had bartered the Under-lord for at her untimely death.

The price was exorbitant – the blood of the leaders of the realm. Baptiste was already preparing to wage his war for control, but his father had he’d done it, unknown to any of the Realm’s hierarchy. The only one he’d failed at was the High Guard. The man was harder to get to than even the Queen herself. As a result, Eugene was still the only one whose magic could have any impact on his pets, as it had been proven.

Baptiste had been gathering the blood of others who came to his realm for his own uses. Then there was the Seer and her portents. The only thing that could stop his plans was the damn Breton the woman had revealed, but he was well protected, hidden, though his eventual mate was not.

After his father had been caught and banished to the Underworld and Baptiste executed, his mother had all but lost her mind. She’d become angry, bitter, but she’d begun to plan her own revenge. That’s when the experiments had started. He’d been just a boy then, but with the blood of both his parents flowing through his veins, the modifications and enhancements, as painful as they were to him, came easy. He’d learned to conceal his real power until the time was right.

The plan was that he would free his father and they would have their day. But then, three years ago, that had ended. And his mother, inconsolable had taken her own life. And then to add insult to injury, the Queen of the Realm had decreed Beacon Hills protected territory, and he’d recalled the Seer’s visions. So this was where the new rulers would rise. He’d see about that.

His own experiments began, and the results were even more promising than he could hope. When he’d been able to tap into the Nemeton, the most powerful of sentient beings, he’d felt like he’d arrived. He was finally prepared to avenge his family and he would flatten them all.

If the Breton got to the Nemeton now, he would no doubt figure out what he’d done. He couldn’t have that. He could not allow the Breton to reawaken the Nemeton, to tap into that power again.

He was not having it.

++++++

“Keep your ears open. These sons of bitches are violent, dangerous and sneaky. We’re taking no chances out here,” Chris warned, eyes peeled for any movement in the trees. _Night was the worst time to be traipsing through these damn woods, but right now they had no choice._

“How much further?” Allison asked, bow clutched tightly in one hand, a vicious looking blade in another as the silence seemed to press in on them.

The preserve was quieter than they were used to. When they could drive no further, they’d been forced to abandon the vehicle and continue on foot. The most curious part was the lack of sound. No crickets chirping; no animals scurrying, just silence, like they’ve never heard before. It really set the hairs of her neck on end.

“About 10 minutes, maybe less.” Stiles responded.

“Let’s make it less, if we can. I’d like to get the hell out of these woods as soon as possible. And to think Scott and I used to . . .” At the sharp look and near growl from her father, Allison zipped her lips closed.

It was the closest Stiles had come to a laugh in quite a while, but he picked up the pace.

++++++

Lydia wasn’t sure what she was looking at. Stiles’ blood it seemed was fighting a strange molecule, one found in the wolves, two samples of which she’d already analysed. Between concentrating on her tests and trying not to panic at what she could feel in the pack bonds, Lydia knew she had to get to the bottom of this.

If the trip to the Nemeton was a bust, she had to find a way to restore Stiles’ powers. Heavens only knew what would happen to all of them without it. But the blood she was looking at seemed to be fighting this strange make-up from the wolf, and she was detecting several strains of DNA, alongside Peter’s which she’d secured before leaving the hospital after the devastating news. She could see where Peter’s DNA had been spliced into that of the werewolves, but his wasn’t the only one, just the most dominant.

It could be this combination, heavy with Peter’s influence, which was dulling Stiles’ senses and abilities. Whatever these secret molecules were, they were everywhere in Stiles’ blood too, but unlike in the wolves were acting as a blocker of some kind.

She needed to dig deeper and start isolating some of these suckers. But it would take time, something she did not have. She glanced back to make sure Ethan and the two soldiers were still standing guard.

Maybe she could unlock the blockage. Or maybe she could use this knowledge to their advantage.

++++++

When Eugene blasted the last wolf, everyone looked around, to be certain the threat was gone, at least for now. They’d lost a few soldiers, and at least two pack. The High Guard barely looked winded by the effort though. For now the threat from the woods had been reduced.

Laura felt the weight of the deaths and sent up a loose prayer for Stiles and the Argents’ safe passage to the Nemeton. They still had no idea how many more wolves they would face this night.

“Everyone inside. Take the dead as well,” she called. “I’ve got a feeling this is far from over,” she grimaced as she allowed herself to finally acknowledge the pain in her arm and the pain in the pack bond of those who’d been killed.

“There was nothing more we could do, Laura. We can grieve for them later. Now we need to make sure we don’t lose anyone else.” Cora pressed her forehead into her sister’s neck as she hugged her. Laura hugged back as Derek came forward, bleeding from his own wounds.

He looked at the High Guard, “Why are you the only one who can do that to those things,” he asked Eugene.

The man shook his head. “I have no idea, son, but I’m going to continue doing it until I can’t anymore.” He herded them toward the house, vigilance his secondary weapon.

++++++

Aviur was urgently searching for Hal. He’d heard what had happened with Jordan on Earth. According to his wife, their son was still unconscious. It had sent a shiver of fear, the likes of which he had not felt since he’d had to retrieve his wife and son from High Rock all those years ago, before the realm was condemned to destruction.

He’d almost lost his family then, and they were in danger yet again.

Hal had left hours ago for the Realm, surely he shouldn’t still be there? Aviur needed to know what he needed to barter for the wolf. Maybe the half-breed would be the answer to his son regaining himself. By all indications, Beacon Hills at the moment was the centre of the biggest battle the supernatural realms had seen in some time.

He hoped he wasn’t about to lose his son. He still didn’t know if he could accept his son’s mate, but he was willing to use him however he could to get his son back.

++++++

Danny floated. Without connection, without mooring, without purpose. Just floated, as the Fates stood by watching others arrive in more numbers than they'd seen in quite a while to the Abyss; some of them soldiers of the Realm.

++++++

Rubekkah brushed a hand through her son’s hair once more. She’d been pissed at Aviur and had told him so. To think the man would possibly hesitate in securing the retrieval of Danny’s soul from the Abyss. It was unthinkable. Could he be so biased against his son’s mate?

If he wasn’t her own, she would have left him this day on learning of his folly – against their own son.

After she’d given him an earful and sworn she would not set foot on their homeland ever again unless he fixed this, he’d promised to rectify the situation. He’d dispatched one of the hounds to reclaim Danny’s body from this realm. Once that was done, all that remained was to strike a deal with the Fates, one they would accept.

She hoped they would accept.

She ran her fingers through Jordan’s hair again as memories of him as a young cub assailed her. “Please, wake up, baby. Come back to me,” she whispered.

++++++

By the time the street was clear, Peter was coated in blood, very little of it his own, and his betas, all of them were sporting wounds of their own. He'd sent Ethan and Scott to the Sheriff's office, everyone else was headed back to Hale Mansion with the residents.

For now the streets were quiet again, but the peace could not be trusted, because out there was a man this Alpha still needed a kill, to rend limb from limb, and he was vibrating with the need for that man’s blood.

++++++

John was at the station directing everything in town at the moment, but it was still nearly impossible with a population of 30,000. So far, most of the attacks had been localised to the areas closest to the Sheriff Station and the Hales’ base.

He had two officers taking turns running surveillance on the town, with another at Danny’s former office, hacking into feeds of the areas the CCTVs missed.

 At the moment he was discussing options with his Alpha.

“Any residual effects, like Stiles?” John enquired when told about Laura’s wound. When the Alpha responded in the negative John frowned, now that was even more curious. Stiles had been affected but not Laura. She was healing. _Maybe the effects would wear off for Stiles as well_ , he thought, though refusing to dwell on it for long.

“The convoy is on the way to your location now. We’re out of room here at the station, so everyone else we’re sending to you. I hope you can find space for them.” He listened again before bidding his Alpha goodbye and going to check again on his residents for the night.

At the moment there were little less than 80 people seeking protection at the office – he’d assigned one of his officers to record names – and another 15 on the way or at hospital being treated. He still didn’t have a number for the fatalities, but maybe another 200 were now on the way to the Hale residence.

If this thing got any worse, they’d run out of places for people to go.

++++++

Laura hung up, watching as Peter’s twin betas helped to calm the younger ones. They’d made fast friends with young Abigail and the three were trying to keep the cubs entertained and out of the way. It seemed to calm their own fears and nerves to be useful, so she’d let Cora delegate some of the responsibilities.

With more people on the way, she’d have no option now but to open the gates to the tunnels to accommodate those on the way. She still had nightmares about the place and the abuse she’d suffered there at her mother’s hands. She’d never wanted to see those walls again, to feel the dank coldness and sterility of the underground, but she had no choice now. The only thing that had stopped her from caving the tunnels in and destroying that forsaken place was the fact that it also served as an escape route into the Preserve. It was a safety hatch in times of trouble and she’d be foolish to discount that usage.

Derek had run up to take a quick shower and have one of the elders stitch his slow-healing wounds. They were trying to keep the sight of blood and destruction from the younger pack members. They were already scared enough. Others huddled and mourned the losses.

“How’s your hand?” Cora asked, coming up behind Laura.

Laura flexed her fingers. “Better.”

“Sounded like the Sheriff. How bad are things in town?”

“A couple dead, but we don’t know how many yet; the station is full to capacity and we’ve got more on the way here,” Laura swallowed. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep all these people safe, Cor,” she said more softly.

The eyes that met Cora’s were worried. The Beacon Hills Pack’s unofficial Second looked at her sister, glanced around at their full house – at those in pain, those scared, those determined to defend – and  then turned back to the Alpha, “We’ll be fine Laura. Things will work out, they have to. We’ll protect these people with our lives if we have to, but Beacon Hills will not be defeated by this monster or his animals.” Cora laid a strong hand on her sister’s shoulder, accepting her own mantle of responsibility. “And I’ve got your back every step of the way.”

Laura nodded, and straightened her posture. “Ok,” she paused, “Ok. But you stay close and stay alive,” she gritted out, real fear present for her own siblings as well. “Let’s get the tunnels ready.”

“I’ll help,” a voice said from the staircase. Malia stood there, with tearful, red eyes but with a confidence that she hadn’t shown before now.

The Alpha smiled and nodded. “Come on.”

The three women set off to the place at least one of them had hoped never to set foot in ever again, with a stiff upper lip and a strong backbone.

++++++

Laura and Cora both felt the panic along the pack bond before the first scream even came, and when it did the high pitch of it echoed chillingly down the corridors of the tunnel.

It was followed by the sounds of snarls, fighting and the boom of one of Eugene’s blasts, but the screams of pandemonium were deafening.

Laura froze as her eyes glowed a bloody red.

The beasts were in the house. They’d breached the Hale residence and her entire pack was up there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was a busy and bloody chapter. Just about everyone was in this baby right here. The next update will be soon, promise. I wouldn’t mind some feedback.


	12. All For A Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and the Argents race to the Nemeton; the Beacon Hills’ survivors fight off more attacks, and Lydia has a breakthrough, as Danny's fate is finally revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another busy chapter this one is and also equally **BLOODY** and very  graphic. So please take care of the warning tags and the extra warning here. There’s an upcoming scene toward the end of the chapter that made even me cringe, so yeah, take care.

The roar that ripped from Laura was deafening. It reverberated all up and down the closed-in tunnel, hurting the ears of the two with her, but also forcing them to shift like they’d never experienced before. All three were immediately running back to the house, Laura ahead of Cora and Malia.

That the animals had breached the territory for the second time that day was clear. That they were now in the one place she had taken everyone for shelter and comfort was unacceptable. Even as she thought it, Laura felt the first of her pack pass. The death toll was sure to rise before the night was up, but she’d be damned if they’d succeed where none other had in wiping out the Hale Pack.

It was clear their pack wards and protections were no use against this sorcerer, or whatever the hell he was, but she’d be damned twice if that would stop her saving her pack.

The Alpha burst out of the tunnels with such deep down rage that she didn’t know if she could contain it. It was like a fire under her skin; lightning in her limbs. She quickly took stock of the carnage around her, refusing to buckle as she felt the loss of more of her pack – three more already. Their numbers were now down to little more than 20, and those remaining were battling or running for their lives. And they’d just started rebuilding the pack too.

“Force them outside! Get them out of here!” she roared, and the soldiers, both of the Realm and her pack, at least those still standing – responded to her call fighting the wolves towards the doors someone immediately threw open.

“Cora, the grenades,” she called before tossing herself into the melee.

The grenades had been among some new ammunition Chris has brought in in the last year, an experimental explosive – small but with a deadly wallop.

Cora raced into the back, as Malia’s eyes glowed yellow and she rushed to the rescue of a pup cowering in a corner behind the body of her mother who’d already been cut down by one of the wolves and was about to become wolf chow.

She launched onto the animal’s back, slashing at the back of its neck like the wild coyote she was. The wolf howled and tried to shake her off, but little did it realise, she was not moving until it was dead or one of them was. No way she was letting it kill that pup. The were-coyote continued hacking at the animal’s head. Every healing wound was met by another gash. All it did was annoy the wolf, as they crashed into almost every piece of remaining furniture, smashing some to bits and shoving others out of the way, as Cora came rushing back into the room.

She stashed the box of grenades nearby and ran to assist Malia, who was looking particularly vicious on the animal’s back.

Cora twisted the mini-grenade till it went yellow. “Hey, Bubba,” when the animal raised its head, she added, “roar for me,” and allowed her claws to open four bloody lines from the side of its face down its chest. When the animal roared, she drew back her other hand and tossed it clear into the thing’s mouth.

That was the good thing about the new ammunition. It was tiny, literally bite-sized.

Malia’s eyes went wide and she froze. “Move!” Cora screamed and the coyote sprung over the head of the animal grabbing Cora’s coat as they both dived for cover, followed by a popping sound somewhat like a foil-covered dinner placed in a microwave on high. Chunks of meat landed all around and on them, leaving only the chunky, mutilated bottom bits.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Cora gasped. The two girls looked at each other and giggled before the noise of fighting reminded them where they were.

“Gimme some o’ those,” Malia said and the two divvied up a few more and ran outdoors to blast a few more murderous wolves apart.

++++++

Derek had just sprung back to his feet when the first rat-a-tat-tat of bullets sounded. He’d barrelled into the chest of the fully shifted animal and been tossed aside, only to jump back to his feet to face the wolf that was trying to tear him apart, when the animal was shoved backwards by rapid gunfire.

He swung glowing blue eyes towards Braeden as she emptied the weapon into the animal. “Head,” was all he said before her second weapon was trained on the animal’s eyes, spot on.  It crashed to the ground in minutes as his mate who’d been steadily moving forward came to a stop in front of him.

Her bike lay discarded on its side, further down the drive. Braeden’s eyes raked over him to reassure herself he was still alive and in one piece, relatively. She nodded and without words they spun to help the others.

++++++

Lydia felt the panic of her pack for the second time that night and felt more deaths, buckling over as she rested a gloved hand against the sterile counter in hopes of steadying herself and pulling her mind back to the task at hand.

Her wards hadn’t held. That was no surprise, but Stiles had added his own when he’d come with Peter, and it seemed like with the cancelling out of his abilities, the attackers had found a weak-spot they were now happily exploiting.

She could not afford the distractions now. She was close to being able to find a way to use Stiles’ blood to their advantage. Given the way it was reacting to the foreign entities in it, she’d had an idea that she could accelerate the response, hypercharge the reaction and create a weapon. They needed all the survival power they could get right now.

And judging by what she could feel on the pack bond, she was out of time.

++++++

“Aviur is calling,” Hal said, eyes glazed and far away as he felt the pull of one from his realm.

“He had his chance,” Angelina said ruthlessly.

“I did promise him he’d get first and last spin at the dice, Angelina. I can’t go back on my word.”

“Since when?” she bared her teeth, showing little resemblance to the fairy she was by nature.

“I’d owe him if I went back on my word, and we both know how **_much_** I enjoy owing people,” Hal said dryly.

“Then let me owe him,” the Queen said. “I’m the one screwing with his wager after all.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? You know the nature of the man, or rather beast, that you’re dealing with. I wouldn’t recommend this.”

“It’s my decision to make. Call him.”

In seconds, Aviur was standing before his two rulers.

The hound’s heart skipped a moment before he inclined his head as a sign of respect to the people seated before him.

“It would seem Her Majesty has an offer to make to you, Aviur, in exchange for the deal I know you’d like to strike for your son’s mate,” Hal told his subject.

Aviur’s eyes pivoted to the Queen. She took a breath and spoke. “In exchange for giving up your claim on the boy, I, the Realm, will owe you one favour, to be collected at a time of your choosing. As long as that favour harms none of my subjects, it will be granted without question. Do you accept these terms?”

Aviur swallowed as he considered the possibilities. “Anything?”

She exhaled. “Anything.”

Aviur’s eyes glowed and his blood sang, but he tried to contain his reaction. “And this is an open-ended offer until such time as I collect?”

“It is,” she replied.

He allowed the grin to show. “Then we have a deal, Your Majesty.”

“I had no doubt we would.” With a wave of his hand, Hal sent the hound back to his realm.

“I shudder to think of what will happen when he collects.”

The Queen held, Hal’s gaze. “That’s my problem. Now, let’s deal. I would like to engage the services of the hounds in this matter.”

Hal’s eyebrows climbed. “I thought we were dealing for the boy.”

“All in good time. Right now I need assassins on Earth, as I’ve already lost too many of my own. What will this cost me, Hal?”

The ruler of the Underworld smiled. It seemed like Aviur wouldn’t be the only lucky one this day, and he had no doubt the Fates would have their own price now as well.

++++++

Stiles saw the blur before he heard a thing. The next thing he knew he was on the ground, with a snarling, snapping, obviously blood-thirsty female vampire in his face – fangs exposed and ready to drink. With a shout slid the knife in his hand into the ribs of the woman, but it seemed the vampire barely felt it.

He felt a thump as one of Allison’s arrows struck the woman in the back, but still there was no effect. Then a gun exploded into the side of the vamps head, disintegrating her jaw and part of her head, but still she struggled.

“What the hell,” Stiles yelled, blinking through the blood and other bits covering his face and upper chest, as a second blast lifted the woman clear off him, tossing her to the side. She began smoking and wriggling and screaming as Chris unloaded a third shot to finish the job.

“What the fuck was that?” Stiles said, as his brain supplied an answer he was unwilling to accept.

“Seems the wolfsbane, mixed with silver, hemlock and mountain ash works,” Chris said, exhaling heavily and scanning the trees.

“I’m not even going to ask why you have that particular combination of bullets on you.”

“Kept your ass alive, didn’t it. Now let’s move. You can be sure that won’t be the last one.” And no sooner than she said it than three more flew out of the darkness.

++++++

The hound stepped forward onto Earth and watched as the Beacon Hills Alpha battled a huge beast of a man, only partially shifted, but stronger than any wolf it had ever seen. It had its orders however and it sprung forward as others poured out of the night, to help the pack protect their own.

Cora blew another one apart and was preparing to launch another mini-explosive when a hound fell on the wolf before her, ripping the animal to literal shreds in moments. She stood, bloodied, shocked and swallowed thickly as the hound lifted its head, pinned her with a red gaze and sniffed at her before bounding towards another non-pack wolf.

Her breath hitched as she watched an army of them just flood the Hale front lawns, helping her pack and the soldiers dispatch the harder to kill animals in minutes. She’d never felt so grateful in her life. This newest bunch of wolves had been tougher than the first.

Then a handsome man appeared and she growled, crouching low and drawing the attention of the Alpha, who rushed over to defend her sister.

“Wait!” Eugene shouted. “Don’t!”

The man lifted an amused brow at the two sister wolves, before turning to acknowledge the High Guard as he came forward. Eugene bowed low, “Sir,” he addressed the ruler of the Underworld. “I had no idea you were coming with reinforcements.”

“Her Majesty and I came to an understanding,” he blinked lazily, looking around. “My hounds will remain at your command until this is resolved,” Hal addressed the Guard. He then nodded briefly at the Realm’s highest ranking soldier, raise his brows as his lips curved at the corner at the Hales once more before he vanished.

“Who the fuck was that?” Laura asked shocked. “What’s happening?”

“That was the ruler of the Underworld,” Eugene responded, “a man you never want to see if he’s not lending a hand, and believe me, this doesn’t happen often.” Eugene surveyed the destruction of the last few wolves.

“If he’s ever not lending aid, pray, because that’s your only hope, and if he is, worry about how you’ll pay it back,” Eric said, with a weak chuckle. His grandfather came forward, clutching his chin and looking at the nasty cut along his temple among other cuts and gashes.

“Ok?”

“I’m fine, dad,” he said, grasping his grandfather’s hand in his own. “Thank you.” This man was the only father he remembered. He was glad the man was at their side, especially now.

The elder man nodded and walked away. He would dispatch two of the hounds to Stiles and the Argents to stand as guards, as well as to the still arriving party from town. At least now he knew there was something that could kill these things faster.

++++++

He upended the table with an unholy bellow. Kicked the chair out of the way and blasted the clock.

 _How dare he? How dare he get involved?_ The last thing he’d been expecting was for the ruler of the Underworld to have involved himself in these matters on Earth without a direct threat to the realm.

Beacon Hill’s greatest threat sat in his quarters and raged. His plans, that had once been going so well and were on the cusp of success, were now on the verge of ruination with the arrival of the hounds. With the Jordan cub out of play and his mother unlikely to leave his side any time soon, he’d known that the one remaining member of the family who could have challenged him was Aviur and that man was nothing if not strategic. All the family’s emphasis would be on their son. So the death of the little hacker wolf had served two purposes – both of which had placed him exactly where he needed to be.

Now, now he’d have to handle things himself. He’d been saving the Underworld for last. He’d wanted to take his time with their destruction. To bathe and bask in the collapse he would bring about to the last place his father had laid his head, drew his last breath.

Now, as long as the realm stood, his pets would have little chance to overwhelm the hounds. They were the one creatures he feared, but also the most partial in any fight without direction or a target. And it seemed his pets had just become their enemies.

Maybe he still had time to eliminate the Breton before all his hard work became undone.

And if that failed, he still had one card left up his sleeve. One card of devastation to play.

++++++

John herded everyone down to the cells as the gunfire continued. His officers, along with Scott and Chase were trying to hold off the attack that started mere moments ago. When he was certain everyone was behind the protective bars, he turned the key, locking them in, and shoved the key at one of the judges from the nearby court house.

“Do not let anyone out of here until the coast is clear. Stay as far back from these bars as possible,” John paused. “If . . . if I don’t come back, anything that comes down those steps that’s not one of us you don’t stop firing until it is dead and then you get everyone to the Hale Mansion. Don’t stop for anyone or anything until you get there.”

“John . . .” the judge began.

“I’m sorry, Murphy. I really am. Just stay here. These bars should hold.” John shifted and went back up the stairs to help his officers and pack.

++++++

Stiles shoved the gun into the vampire’s mouth and began firing and did not stop until his gun was empty, and still the vamp tried to bite through the metal in its jaws. His bullets were still of the regular variety. He’d had no time to get enhanced ones from Chris. The gun was the only thing stopping the vampire from embedding those teeth into some vulnerable part of him and draining him dry.

“Chris!” he yelled. “I’m out.” But all he could hear was the sounds of snarling and fighting. It was clear both Chris and Allison were still alive, but both otherwise occupied at the moment. He’d have to save himself this time.

Stiles palmed his second knife that had been strapped close to his revolver in his left hand, inserted it between the gun and the vampire’s lips and began cutting. Blood splashed his face, down his arm, making his purchase on both weapons a little less sure but he couldn’t afford to stop. He kept cutting until he hit the jaw bone. His arms were screaming with exhaustion but he dared not let them sag, even if just a bit.

He shoved at the knife, willing it to penetrate the bone, as the unfeeling vampire’s nostrils flared wide at the smell of blood, although it was its own. But it seemed to be enough of a distraction to allow him to shove harder and be heard the first crack of the jaw being penetrated. With another yell and a final thrust, he pushed the knife home and felt the jaw weaken.

The gun popped free as the entire side of the vampire’s face came loose, rendering it impotent to biting, but still it tried slapping flabby jaws at him. When it came forward, he did what he’d been unable to do from the get go, imbedded the point of the blade in between the eyes and shoved, hard.

The vampire’s eyes flew wide and it crumpled to the floor.

“Sorry,” Allison gasped as she came up to him. “That thing was harder to kill than the damn wolves before them. I guess we can assume this is what he did with the vampires he took.”

“Well let’s get to this damn tree before he sends more back-up,” Chris growled, shaking something that looked suspiciously like brain matter from his shirt.

Stiles meanwhile resembled something from a B-rated slasher flick, and his soaked shirt was no longer an option as a face cloth.

++++++

Parrish’s eyes fluttered and Rubekkah sat forward. “Honey? Jordan, baby can you hear me?”

The hound groaned and sat up like it pained him to do so. “Mom? What happened?”

And Rubekkah froze. _No, not again. She couldn’t break this news again._

++++++

Angelina pursed her lips. She hated this. She absolutely hated this, but there was no help for it.

She looked at the young man before her and felt grief. Her entire universe was crumbling around her and she’d tried to do a good turn. She’d made so many deals in the last 24 hours that she shivered to think about the costs of each one and the debts she had to repay.

This one though. This hurt the most, but there was no helping for it now. The deal had been made. The Fates had been paid and she knew the hound would not be happy with this outcome.

“There’re a few things you should know . . .” she began, for the first time in her life hesitant with her words.

++++++

“Is it supposed to look like that?” Chris asked as they paused.

“Yeah, it looks . . .”

“Dead,” Stiles finished for Allison. “It looks near dead.” Stiles was pained. After everything the Nemeton had done for him, there’d been no warning, none whatsoever about this. He stepped close, feet crunching on hundreds of dried leaves as he approached. He rested a hand against the trunk, looking for any sign that the magic was still there. That **_IT_** was still there. Any at all.

“Is it dead?” Allison asked then.

“No, I don’t think so, but close. I think he’s somehow tapped into it.”

“I thought that wasn’t possible. I mean after what you . . . it  . . . did to the last witch that tried, this shouldn’t be possible should it? How is this possible?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles murmured and startled as he felt a tickle against his palm. “But it’s still in there. It’s trying to reach out. The bodies, bring me those bodies, quick.” Maybe a sacrifice would work, if the damn vampires hadn’t already bled into the forest floor. The only other option then was himself, and Peter would never forgive him for that.

So he’d try the alternatives before embarking on impossible and hoping he survived it.

++++++

Lydia smiled. Puffed out a long breath and smiled. She had it. She knew she did.

She ripped the white glove from one hand, exited the lab at a run for her purse. Pulling her cell, she dialled the Alpha. She had to find Stiles and fast.

She might just be able to reverse this thing, if anyone was still alive.

++++++

Parrish emitted a sound that was a mixture of a howl, a growl, a cry and a shout of excitement as he realised who was standing before him. He was crushing Danny to him and crying as the young man stood with his hands at his sides. All Parrish could do was inhale his mate. His mate was here.

Realising the young man was not returning the gesture, he pulled back frowning. “Danny?”

The young man looked at him blankly. “I’m sorry. She said I might not remember everything. I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are.”

Parrish looked up with grief to the Queen as she confirmed, “I’m sorry, Jordan, it was the only deal they would accept,” she said sorrowfully.

Parrish swallowed but nodded his acknowledgement. “So he doesn’t remember us? Us together? Nothing. . .”

“No.”

The hound swallowed, nodding vigorously as a cold feeling swept his skin. He’d have given anything as well to have this moment so he understood . . . at least he was trying to. “That’s ok. I can live with that. It’s going to be ok.”

Danny wasn’t so sure. The Queen inhaled and said, “There’s more.”

When the hound looked at her in askance, she added, “He can’t stay here. Earth is no longer his Realm. He can visit, but not remain.” Parrish looked like his heart was breaking all over again.

“What do you mean? Where will he go?” he asked confused, fearful of the answer.

Danny looked between the strange and handsome man that was still holding him and the woman who’d brought him here. She’d told him he belonged to someone, but he was so confused. _He didn’t know these people. How could he belong to someone he didn’t know?_

The Queen looked at Parrish silently before it registered. _Of course._ He wondered if his father had a hand in this deal that was struck and it hurt.

“I’m sorry, Jordan. The Fates seemed to have made up their mind about Danny’s future. I couldn’t budge them. I’m sorry.”

Parrish turned to his mother. “I guess you and dad get what you always wanted after all.”

Rubekkah looked crushed.

“After this is over and we’ve restored calm here, I will release you from your service to the Realm. You’ll be able to return home to your mate. I’m so sorry, Jordan.”

He turned lost and hurt eyes back to his mate. “I’ll help you remember us.” _Please_ , he begged the Fates silently, _let him remember us._ But Parrish knew, it might be too much to ask from the Women who gave no quarter, regardless of standing. Their word was final. There were no exceptions and no loop holes.

He’d got his mate back, but it meant very little now. Parrish was locked in this forever. He could never have another. But Danny, now more than ever, had the opportunity to walk away for good.

And with the mess that had become of everything, who could blame him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update will be difficult for everyone. If you read the comments, you’d know AzureBlueEspeon and I have been conversing about what’s likely to happen and I promised this would not be a cookie-cutter finish. So, the penultimate chapter will be heart-breaking for a lot of people, so please beware.


	13. Why Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and company battle feral, enhanced wolves and vampires; Peter finally comes face to face with his nemesis; and the pack mourns a loss they might not be able to recover from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to apologise. I was ill for a couple days and just could not build the strength to update the story. The good news is that now both chapters are complete, so by tomorrow I will update and conclude the rest of the story.
> 
> Again, cautions for violence, gore and heartbreak ahead in this chapter. This was a tough one to write.

The man watched his latest prey. Watched him like a hawk and could nearly taste the victory.

This one was a strong one – a good pick. This was one they valued, looked to. This was one they would feel, and it would make his victory all the sweeter.

So he reached out and took him.

++++++

Laura looked around the broken living room. Almost corner to corner wounded pack mates were being assisted by others in tending the gashes, scrapes and mortal wounds suffered at the hands of the wolves. The only reason some of them were alive was the supernatural blood flowing through their veins and their ability to heal.

She tried to temper their pain as a pack as best as she could, but without the Nemeton to lend its aid, she was pretty much learning as she went along. In the past, Talia alongside Deaton had always found a way to block the majority of the pain from the pack using his powers as a Druid. While it was a good thing in one respect, it was a bad thing in another, because there had begun as well the duplicity they endured for many years. The pack had been completely in the dark about so many things and she’d sworn when Peter had passed the mantle of Alpha to her after Talia’s death that they would never return to such a state. And she’d meant it.

But the losses they’d suffered these past two days were more than she knew a lot of the younger members could bear. In the last two hours, she’d felt the bolstered strength of several of the more mature and older members of the pack. They’d begun tapping in to help her share the pain, to help offer comfort in the bond, especially for the younger ones.

It felt the way pack should. Despite all the tragedy that had befallen them today – even one man who’d lost his wife, had tapped in to help pull and absorb the pain of other. When she’d felt his attention in particular, a tear had rolled down her cheek before she could halt it. Brushing it away with a quick hand moments later, Laura acknowledge that this was a sign of how much they looked to her and trusted her to get them through this.

She only hoped when this was all over that she was still worthy of their fealty.

So she walked the house, giving instructions and ensuring those who were still scared were comforted and that the wounded were tended. She’d dispatched Derek, who’d earlier gone to shower so he wouldn’t scare the younger ones with the way he was covered in blood, along with two guards and Malia to the tunnels once more. They still needed to prepare for those who were coming.

She scented as many as she could with each round she made and that encouraged others to do the same. She paused to brush a hand over Cora’s hair as well, a gesture she knew would annoy her sibling, but right now conveyed the well-being they both needed as well.

When her phone rang she reached for it with one hand. “I need to find Stiles,” Lydia said almost immediately. “I think I’ve found it. I may have a way to fight them, for Stiles to regain his powers. Where is he?”

“He went out to the Nemeton. He’s searching for a cure there, a way to shut down the portals and find out what’s wrong with our Nemeton. I’ll ask Eugene to send someone to you, they should be able to transport you to him quickly and safely.

“I really hope this works, Lydia. We need . . .” she never got to finish her sentence, because the echo of another death down the pack bond drove the breath from her lungs.

The same death, when she realised whom it was from, moments later dropped her where she stood.

++++++

Lydia reared back and cried out.

Instantly Ethan was at her side, holding her up. The two other pack members with them likewise stumbled, pressing hands on the nearby walls to steady themselves and Ethan felt a moment of sheer panic. _What now?!_ Whatever was happening was serious.

Lydia shouted again and this time it was a wrenching and broken sob as tears tumbled from her wide-staring eyes.

“Nooooo, God please nooo,” she cried, as Ethan dragged her close, heart thudding in his chest.

“What is it?” he asked frantic.

“He’s dead,” she said brokenly, and for a moment his panic knew no bounds as his mind fought to wonder if Stiles had finally met his match. _But no, their pack would know if something had happened to Stiles, this couldn’t be Stiles. Could it? And if not, then who?_

++++++

Rubekkah ached. She looked at her son and felt his pain – acutely; then she looked at the wolf her son’s hound had chosen and hoped that the young man was worthy. Why the Fates had done as they did remained the question that only the women could answer, and the Fates never provided reasons.

It couldn’t be easy having the knowledge they did of every possible outcome to every possible choice one made. It was enough to send any mortal or supernatural being insane. In fact, some argued the Fates had long lost their marbles but that was a thought she refused to entertain. If there was no hope through the Fates, then they were all doomed.

So she’d just have to ensure that her husband and mate got on board this _Danny andJordan_ train, or she’d make him.

++++++

Angelina felt powerless. This was as far as the Fates would allow her to go – that was the deal. The return of Danny but neither she nor Hal were allowed to toss themselves into this war, despite the fact that it could determine the supernatural community on Earth and everywhere else for the foreseeable future. They could send all the resources they desired, but physically and personally, they could not assist Earth any more than they’d already done.

She felt there was something about this war that even she didn’t know and it chaffed how empty that feeling of vacancy felt. _Could this man kill her? Was that what the Fates had seen? But they seldom intervened in deaths, so that couldn’t be it. Could she kill him? Maybe, but why would they not want that?_ If his plans went through there was a chance that even the Fates themselves were not safe. It was maddening.

So she’d delivered Danny into the hands that would transport him to the Underworld and much to the confusion and consternation of Laura and even Eugene, whose eyes had nearly popped out of his head at her announcement of her intent to return home, she’d departed Earth for the Realm, praying her High Guard and soldiers would be enough.

Now she paced her chambers, knowing in her current state she could not venture into the wider public, not right now, not while she waited to see if her successors would vanquish this threat or if the Realm should prepare for all-out war soon.

It was this, this godforsaken battle, that would determine the fate of Earth and the other realms – and they were powerless to interfere. Of course she could disregard the Fates and their deals and decrees, but the consequences to Stiles, Peter and all they held dear, to her own Realm of governance as well, could become forfeit.

So she worried, biting her nails as he wings fluttered in distress; but she could do no more than watch and wait.

++++++

Lydia was more scared than she ever thought possible. The hand holding her phone shook uncontrollably as tears fell from her eyes. They’d lost so many already, but this one – this one could break them all.

As she buckled over in grief, Ethan tried to hold her up, confusion written on his face. She was afraid to look at him.

“Lydia?” was all he could manage because her grief alone was like nothing he’d felt in a long, long time.

++++++

Peter’s senses were so acute that every scuttle of a creature under the brush, every screech of a night-time feathered creature, even the sniffles of those with them caused his back to stiffen. He was in his beta form, running ahead of the many vans and trucks that made up the procession to Hale Mansion.

He was determined to be the first line of defence and the last, if needs be. He kept waiting for the next attack that did not seem to come, but which everything so far promised it would.

He heard the laugh before he saw the man, standing directly in their path in a most theatrical and dramatic manner. He had a self-satisfied air about him and he carried a smell that tickled Peter’s nostrils with its familiarity.

As his brain tried to decipher the scent – _he knew that scent_ – a growl worked its way from deep within followed by an equally low howl which caused Erica, who was driving the first vehicle directly behind him to brake; Boyd, over to his left and two of the guards who’d likewise been travelling outside the convoy pulled up to a stop, assuming battle positions for whatever was coming.

Peter stalked forward, sure who this man must be and prepared to rip him apart with his bare teeth and end this all now, if he could.

“Peter Hale,” the man said quietly as he approached, not even projecting but sure the wolf could hear him. “We finally meet. I’ve looked forward to this for quite some time.”

The man was handsome to look at, if a little on the short side. He was bald, but his goatee and carefully trimmed and styled sideburns gave him a dashing appearance that ordinarily should look simply ridiculous by comparison.

“What do you want? What’s all this meant to achieve?”

“Maybe I just like the mayhem and madness. Maybe I like the idea of your world being thrown into chaos and madness. Maybe I just like the sight of blood,” the man mocked.

Peter growled again, “Enough with the games. Who the hell are you and what do you want with us? State your case and fight like a man! You’ve brought these people suffering they don’t deserve, for your own selfish reasons; reasons you’ve been unwilling to share with the rest of us. And I, for one, am tired of your games. What do you say we end this now, once and for all?”

The man laughed scornfully. “Peter, Peter, Peter, you sure are entertaining,” he laughed again. “You still believe this is about you. This was never about _you_ , Peter Hale. You were merely a means to an end . . .” At those words, Peter’s heart jumped.

“. . . and I dare say,” the madman continued, “the end is in sight. Never fear, I will tell your mate you sent your love when I rip his heart from his chest.”

 _Where was Stiles?_ Peter let out an awful roar as he sprung forward towards the spot where the man had already vanished. _Stiles_ , he tried not to panic. _Stiles was out there, somewhere in these woods, virtually defenceless. He never should have allowed them to separate._ He needed to find his mate.

“We’ll get to him in time,” Boyd said, trying to comfort his Alpha. “The team will get the them to the mansion, Maria and I are right behind you.” At his words, Maria, still healing from her earlier wounds who’d already rushed forward at the appearance of the man, nodded eagerly, lips pinched.

Peter was torn. They had to ensure the convoy got to Laura safely. But his heart beat a quick tattoo. His mate needed him more.

Two hounds broke the cover of darkness just then, bowing to Peter before turning, making it clear they were here to lead the way back. With their arrival and the other guards with the group, Boyd glanced at Erica, saw the moment she realised he was going and that he might not return. She forced her fears down, swallowed and nodded. This was who they were. They could do nothing other than protect their Alpha and his mate.

Peter barely paused before he disappeared into the trees, Boyd and Maria hot on his heels. The Alpha was headed for the Nemeton where he could only hope he would still find Stiles, and in one piece.

++++++

Stiles stumbled, as he was struck briefly by disorientation. Before he could steady himself properly, Chris stepped forward speaking between clenched teeth, “That’s enough, Stiles. You’re no use to anyone dead.”

“Did it work?” was Allison’s immediate response, looking between the young man her dad was now supporting with a hand beneath his arm and the tree, which to her own eyes looked exactly the same as it had been.

“I’m not sure.” Stiles shook his head. He could feel no difference in the air now than moments ago and now wasn’t certain if the blockages in his own blood were having a similar effect on the Nemeton. He should have considered this before.

“You don’t look so good,” a voice laced with amusement said from behind them, as a swell of energy blasted Allison before she could even raise her bow.

“Alli!” Chris screamed pulling his weapon just as his daughter fell unconscious, metres from the Nemeton. But before he could fire a shot, he too was knocked off his feet by a second blast, taking Stiles with him.

++++++

Jordan felt the drop in the pack bond and knew immediately what it meant. He raised startled eyes to his mother as her mouth fell open.

“The Prince,” she uttered.

Danny’s eyes bounced between the woman and the young man who claimed to be his something or the other. The woman reached out and touched the man and he vanished into darkness right before his eyes.

He felt his vision sharpen and when he looked down, his hands were sporting claws and his heart was thudding inexplicably.

++++++

Peter was about to lose his mind.

 _It was all a trap_ , he knew it was – the appearance a moment ago to lure him to Stiles and the Nemeton. He knew within his heart that this man wanted to kill them all and it was his way of ensuring Peter knew where to come to meet his end, but he could never not show up.

He could feel Boyd racing beside him, Maria not far behind, but all his anxiety, the pain in his shoulders, the knots in his stomach, the soreness in the pads of his feet, nothing compared to the racing of his heart – the absolute fear that he was going to be too late.

When the tremble in the pack bond came, Peter tripped and went crashing through the brush, fear now firmly lodged along with his heart in his mouth. He whined as he felt Stiles’ flare of panic along the pack bond, followed by a brief silence, before the panic resumed.

_He’s still alive – thank God, he was still alive._

Peter pushed himself back to his feet and forced more speed into his powerful legs, as his Second and beta struggled to keep up. He’d be in time – nothing else was acceptable and he’d rip that man to pieces. He would end this once and for all.

++++++

Parrish stepped into the Underworld and a moment of silence descended as everyone turned. Aviur stepped forward in surprise, but Hal looked up, holding up a hand to halt the elder man’s progress. He met Jordan’s eyes and they seemed to communicate in seconds. Hal knew what was at stake. He nodded his ascent for passage, and the hound, who had yet to look at his own father, with a slight head inclination of acknowledgement stepped out of his birth realm to the Nemeton.

The man who stood there was a threatening form looming over the Prince and his two human protectors.

Parrish’s eyes bled red as the vacant eyes of his mate replayed in his mind. _This man. This man would die tonight for what he had done, to all of them._

++++++

Peter saw the Nemeton ahead; he smelled blood, Stiles’ blood, and he heard the sounds of fighting and smelled Parrish as well. The hound was here, thank every deity.

The sight that greeted Peter though was not the one he’d been hoping for, a visibly tired and bloodied Stiles was holding off a vampire with his hands and a knife alone. Allison, it seemed, was either unconscious or dead, and Chris was favouring his right leg as he expended another round into the brain of a werewolf.

Parrish was battling wolves of his own, while trying to fight his way to the man who was directing it all; a man who turned to him with a vicious toothy grin as he arrived, nearly out of breath. Peter was in the process of drawing said breath when a wolf landed on his back and bit deep. Boyd was there before he could utter a sound, crashing into the animal and tossing it from his back. Maria bowled ahead, rushing to Stiles’ aid.

 

Peter gathered his wits and dove for the wizard, or whatever the hell he was. The Alpha felt a shiver of power, before pain wracked his entire frame. He pushed through it, easing himself back to his feet and bounding once again for the man, whose eyes showed his surprise at the wolf’s tenacity.

“You are a surprise, Mr. Hale,” he drawled, and let off another bolt of energy, striking the wolf mid-attack.

Peter felt his limbs seize, and just as quickly he dropped to the ground with a jarring thud. His mind struggled to get his body back under control, but he was fast losing that battle. Boyd was keeping wolves at bay from reaching his Alpha, while a doubly injured Maria tried to do the same for Stiles.

But then, Peter heard Stiles cry out and compelled his limbs to move. _Dammit, move!_ His leg twitched and by sheer force of will, his bulk started to shift once more beneath pained, trembling legs. If this man wanted he could simply smite them from the face of the earth or so it seemed, but he was too busy enjoying the games.

Boyd roared as one of the wolves overpowered him and bit into his leg. He tried to shake that one off, glancing at Peter to make sure he was still free of the animals while the Alpha got to his feet again, but then a knife hit the wizard just beneath his breastbone and he tripped forward in surprise. In an ordinary person it would have been a killing blow because certainly it would have nicked a few key arteries, maybe even the heart – but this man was nothing normal.

Peter turned swiftly to realise Stiles was on his feet, and what’s more, there were now two hounds, including Parrish, and a beta fighting at his back. Back-up had arrived. One of the hounds quickly dispatched a threatening wolf, throwing the bleeding carcass at the roots of the Nemeton as food.

The knife eased out of the man’s chest without him even touching it, though he pressed a palm against the wound and they watched as blood trickled through his fingers. The man’s lips moved silently, and Peter heard the mumbled words of what he was sure was a spell in progress. The spreading stain of red across his shirt ceased and the man flung his hand out to his side, shaking all remaining traces of blood from his fingers. He grimaced at the blood soaked blade on the ground before turning incensed eyes on the Breton and the hounds at his either side.

“You thought that would kill me?” he threw his gleaming bald head back and laughed arrogantly, eyes shining with mirth. “Surely not, Breton. Don’t you know you’re no match for me? You’re human now.”

“Not really,” Stiles replied, and grinned, wide and terrible as the last of the vampires’ and wolves’ essence drained into the ground around him – right into the roots of the Nemeton. And moment later, the blood coating the knife and the man’s own drops of blood on the ground sunk into the grateful earth.

The last wolf, whom Maria was battling crumpled, and within seconds that too was drained dry as a husk. The Nemeton was thrumming and it was hungry.

The man’s mouth opened soundlessly, gaping his surprise. The one thing he’d overlooked. And Stiles felt the first spark in his core. A feeling that had been missing ever since his run-in with that wolf back at the Argents’ home. It wasn’t a lot, but it might be enough.

The man yelled his fury and fired a bolt of pure fire at him. The hounds simply stepped into the path, absorbing the energy like a snack before the main meal. Both growled and Stiles had only opened his mouth to command them to charge when the two burst forth at the Beacon Hills’ nemesis.

The man tossed another shock of power at the two, striking both and staggering them, but it was enough. Enough to give Peter the chance to rush forward and fell the man with one large paw and a lucky strike. The man hit the ground and skidded – jarred by the fall, and bloodied by the blow. The rake of four bloody claws down his chest, opening the cavity a little.

He merely garbled the semblance of a scream before Peter prowled forward the the apex predator he was, and snapped, teeth grabbing the man between throat and shoulder, jaws clamping deep and strong.

“Wait!” Stiles called, as he felt the weak tingles of his own powers returning like a limb awakening after having fallen asleep.

His mate raised a head to look at him, dropping the man from between his teeth like unwanted meat as more of his blood soaked the forest floor. Peter felt it too, in the sharpening of their bond as the man lost more and more of his life’s blood. Maybe the man’s powers were finally waning.

“All this, for nothing,” Stiles came to within reach of him, cracking his neck confidently, testing his powers and allowing the gift to start to swell, just enough so this man could feel it, and know.

The man tried to struggle, tried to raise his own powers against these two who had taken everything, including the future that had been promised to him. They should not have been able to defeat him like this – but somehow they had. He had no doubt they would rise to rule now, unless . . .

Unless he had the last laugh and broke them indefinitely. “No, not for nothing,” he gasped. “Your father . . . is mine.”

Peter growled, nostrils flared in what was now an empty threat.

Stiles’ whole being trembled like he was shaking off the vestiges after having been struck by lightning. His mind short-circuited, as a frisson of power behind him announced the arrival of someone else. It was Eugene, and Lydia was with him. Her eyes alone, told him this was no joke. It held a pain for him that could only be brought by two things on this earth – harm to Peter . . . or . . . or something happening to . . . to his father.

He wasn’t even aware of when he got hands on the man, lying there, bleeding out. “Where is he?!” Stiles screamed, shaking the man with enough force to rattle his bones, as Peter tried to restrain his mate. “Tell me where he is!!”

The man just gurgled what sounded like it would have been a gleeful laugh, if his mouth had not been filled with blood. “You might have ended my life,” the man snarled, favouring him with a toothy, bloody grin, “but I win.” He gasped, “I win, Prince . . . because I took from you . . . what they . . . took from me. Now we’re both orphans,” he coughed, gasping as he uttered, “Now we’re the same . . . at last.”

As his head lolled to the side and panic struck at Stiles’ very soul, he shook the man even harder. _That wasn’t true, it couldn’t be! His father couldn’t be . . ._

But as his powers spread out, searching for the familiar feel of family, nothing came, nothing but pack – frightened but alive, unlike his father. Pack that was the only family he had left.

The wail that rend the air shook everyone and everything close to it.

And Stiles just kept screaming . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I warned about Major Character Deaths, but even I didn’t imagine this one when I initially updated that tag. Maybe the nemesis died too easily. I simply refused to name him. I couldn't, which I know is far from the norm. 
> 
> Final update tomorrow and then the series is complete. Thank you all who are still with me.  
> 


	14. Where I Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone tries to find their space to deal with the losses as things slow down in Beacon Hills. Meanwhile, Stiles has questions that need to be answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who stuck it out to the end of the series thank you. I know I kept extending as things unfolded. This _may_ be my last fic for a while, because . . . but see you next time, hopefully – whenever that may be. 
> 
> To revolution_starter, AzureBlueEspeon, flowerpotgirl and hakkai_sensei whose comments kept me motivated to actually get this done, thank you for the support. To all who have read, left kudos, bookmarks, or will in the future, thank you too and feel free to leave me a comment. Although I’m a bit behind on responses at the moment, I will respond when I can. 
> 
> Stay cool.

Peter did not know how to offer comfort. Stiles’ silence was the hardest thing he thought they’d ever have to face. Even beyond the issues they’d had at the beginning with Stiles coming to terms with Malia and who she was, was nothing compared to this.

As long and as hard as he held his mate, it was never enough. Their bond reverberated with a pain that was as deep as the very marrow of his bones. It ached like an abscessed tooth and tied his stomach in so many knots he didn’t know where to start the unravelling process.

So he allowed his mate to grieve. His leave from the university was now extended and he’d already received dozens of emails from students expressing condolences for the loss in his family. And yes, John was that. He was family . . . had been family.

They’d tried. Every bargain, deal, barter they could think of, but the Fates were unmoving. John’s soul was not to be released, at least not to his family.

“He’s to be reincarnated,” Angelina had tearfully told her main executioner as the power emanating from his small, pale, mole-brushed frame was enough to even cause her own wings to curl, “At least take heart in the fact that he will live again. They’ve deemed his soul too good to be wasted.”

“Too good to be wasted,” Stiles had said in a voice that was colder than any they’d ever heard. “Too good to be wasted but not good enough to be restored. Who do they think they are?” He’d asked as pain leaked into his voice.

It was then Peter had gathered him close, eyes looking at the Queen in apology. To question the Fates, was sin enough; to insult them was courting a fate of your own, worse than any you could imagine. So he’d pulled Stiles into his arms, as his mate went limp, his grief a throbbing ache once more.

He’d screamed himself hoarse in the Preserve that night. Angelina had arrived after nothing and no one could get through to him, and with a finger touched to his forehead rendered him unconscious. The silence then throughout the forest was absolute, in a way silence should never be.

The doctor they’d brought from the Realm, had declared his throat raw and bloodied, and his lungs exhausted. Peter didn’t even know such a thing was possible and he was scared. Especially when Stiles remained unconscious for three days, while Peter, the pack, Laura and her remaining pack, even the Queen herself had begged and pleaded for audience with the Fates. But their decision was already made – John’s soul already pinpointed for reassignment – where? They would not divulge.

It was unbearable. And Stiles, it seemed did not want to wake.

++++++

The potion Lydia had synthesised into a cure, was used to treat the Nemeton’s remaining symptoms of whatever the bastard had done to it when he’d syphoned its powers.

It was Angelina who’d explained that in the Realm, Salaman had been the previous medium of the Nemeta. He’d once been the one to care them, groom them and ensure their survival, until he’d been corrupted and banished, but his son somehow retained the ability to commune and tap into some of the Nemeta’s powers. Therein the sentient ones had tried to fight, just as they had rejected his father before him and had then seemingly returned to dormancy from any of the Realm, until Stiles. They’d been waiting for the Breton to awaken their true power.

With the Beacon Hills Nemeton almost back to full power, Laura was coping much better. They were rebuilding; reassuring the town’s thousands of residence, and adding more precautions to the county. A new interim sheriff had been appointed, but it seemed the loss of John had yet to sink in fully.  The entire county was grieving for the loss of a good man. The supernatural community of and from around Beacon Hills was grieving the loss of a good wolf and protector, a champion who’d understood that humans were ever bit as violent as anything with claws or a supernatural core.

He’d been a fair man and he was missed. Vigils were held around town – the largest being at the Sheriff Office. But one thing was missing – his son. News began to spread about the coma like state of the sheriff’s only son from the night of his death.

Supernatural witches, wizards, even a Spark came, from far and wide to help. Nothing worked. And every night, after a long day spent helping return Beacon Hills to normal, Peter curled up around his mate and allowed himself to grieve and fear, and despair that this was his new reality.

But still Stiles refused to wake.

++++++

The only one who spent more time with Stiles, than either Peter or Lydia, was little Everdeen. She’d curled up on his chest on the night they’d brought him back from the Nemeton, and had refused to let even her mother remove her.

She’d been fed, even cleaned, while lying on Stiles’ chest, sobbing her little heart out for “Ties”, he “Unca Ties”. After the second day, Boyd had taken her, kicking and screaming, but taken her away. It was breaking his heart, and Peter’s how the little cub was virtually making herself sick. But Peter was in no better shape. A part of him was missing, that would not be whole until his mate woke up.

++++++

Parrish had been granted and returned to his father’s realm, but nothing was calm or easy. He still truly believed his father had a hand in the outcome of the Queen’s negotiations, and no matter what Aviur said, how much he disputed this, it fell on deaf ears.

So he and his son were at an impasse – one not even Rubekkah was successful at mediating. She’s given up, believing that things would work themselves out, if they were meant to be. Just like Parrish’s situation with Danny.

Very little had changed on that front, she knew her son was trying to be patient, trying to reteach Danny most of what he’d forgotten about them but it only led the wolf to frustration, and most days he walked away in despair about this hound he didn’t know and this place he didn’t belong.

Both Aviur and Rubekkah had tried to tell him – give it time, but Parrish was nothing if not stubborn. So he continued trying, and continued failing, only to start again. But she feared Danny was the one losing the battle with patience and understanding.

It would all come to a head and she feared sooner rather than later, and goodness only knew that that moment would reveal.

++++++

Malia embraced her friend. Just held her tight. All the memories might not have returned as yet, but the two girls clung to each other. Malia had begun to wonder if her scattered memories of this person called Hayden was even real, but here she was standing before her.

The Queen had sent soldiers of the Realm to uncover “The Nemesis’” private liar, where the atrocities done there were enough to make even the hardest of souls grieve for those who’d been taken, experimented on until they were mere shells of their former selves and then unleashed on whichever area it was deemed they could do most damage.

Many of the wolves and some of the taken vampires had been killed at Beacon Hills, others remained in feral states, and there was still discussion over what to do with them. There was no easy solution, although Lydia was working with a team to see if more of her synthesised cure could help return them to normal.

Now, Hayden’s arms hugged her friend. “I thought you were dead. I thought they’d caught you and killed you,” her friend cried.

“I have no memory of what happened, Hayden, just you, only you.”

Together they would try to reconstruct what had happened to them both, but first Malia had a visit to make – to the morgue.

Later that day she stood over the body and didn’t know what to feel or if she should be feeling anything. For a while this woman had inspired nothing but fear and confusion, but seeing her here, laid out like this dead, body a mass of rips and tears was something else entirely.

No, they didn’t have the kind of connection like Stiles and his dad did but Malia felt that she should be feeling something – this was after all her mother; but nope, nothing except relief. She may never know why her mother was hunting her but at least that fear was over now.

She turned away, knowing the chapter was closed and she had no desire to revisit it. Maybe she’d talk to Maria about it. Maybe her reaction wasn’t a healthy one to have – all things considered. And she needed to call Harriet, to let the only mother she’d really ever known, know she was alive and well.

Melissa rest a hand on her shoulder in comfort, squeezing gently before leading her back up the stairs, back to Hayden’s hospital room. At least there she knew what she felt.

++++++

Two of Laura’s pack announced their pregnancies to the Alpha and it seemed even though they hadn’t planned or expected it, the pack was filling in once more.

Victoria and Allison had been moved from the fringes into the fold of the pack, as had Scott. Allison and Scott had moved in together into one of the vacant homes of a pack member who’d been killed, and Chris and Vicky had moved into the main house.

Laura was already having plans drawn up to add another wing. She felt the need for more pack closer within the house. The house formerly shared by Parrish and Danny remained vacant. Laura was as of yet to assign it to anyone, and when asked, she waved it off and changed the topic.

There was a heaviness about her these days. The fighting had united the Beacon Hills pack and matured its Alpha, but there was a still kind of resoluteness about her now that had not been there before. And in the quiet moments she could be found looking off into the Preserve, brow furrowed in thought. The only one who got through enough for a real honest answer about her thoughts was Eric.

It was to him that she would admit the deep down guilt that never let her rest well. Guilt that they’d essentially killed off several wolves who were a part of packs, some that still existed, and others now exterminated because of what happened here in Beacon Hills. She’d lost some of her own and that pain had been excruciating. She could only imagine what those pack members that remained from the feral ones had felt and it was a burden she had to bear.

Maybe she’d try to reach out to those survivors as well . . . in time. Right now though, the pain of such a meeting would only crush the spirit she was fighting to rebuild.

++++++

These days, Eric tried to lend what comfort he could. Rumour had it he’d proposed and been refused – but not with a definitive no, with a “please wait. Ask me again.”

And the centaur knew he would. She was worth it. He’d happily give up his place on the Realm for forever with the Alpha. She represented the kind of strength he’d searched for and despaired ever finding. Until Laura, his experiences with women had left him wanting. Now he could finally stop looking.

The entire pack thought they made a fantastic couple and already looked to them as the unofficial leaders of the Beacon Hills pack.

Eventually, both he and his grandfather knew he’d take her name, and the elder man just smiled at him in a way that reminded him of home when he wished him the best and reminded him he was always there for whatever Eric needed on Earth.

So Laura would be his – just not yet.

++++++

Allison was slowly learning all the ins and outs of the family business, much to Chris’ consternation. He now had to live with the fact that come hell or high water, his daughter would eventually be the head of his growing legacy.

If anything, he was even harder with her training than he had been before, and she was stepping up to the challenge admirably. Now if only he could convince her to develop her taste in men, although he was getting along with the McCall boy a lot better these days.

After discussion, Scott had agreed to reopen the clinic. He was still in school, with a few more years to complete, but it was good to feel useful again; to be contributing to the healing in Beacon Hills.

++++++

Cora was unofficially Pack Protector – the Alpha’s Left Hand – and was being put through even rougher paces during the day by Peter and Eric. She was finishing her degree by online education, with only a few trips to campus now and then.

The past tragedies had convinced her her place was with her pack, protecting them and her Alpha. She and Laura had been through five days of nearly non-stop arguing about it. Laura still wanted her to see some of the world, to take time to develop her own self. She wanted something other than danger for her sister.

Cora refused.

They were at a moment of uneasy truce, but both knew the issue of her future was far from settled.

++++++

Derek and Braeden also moved in. The mercenary was taking fewer and fewer “assignments” outside of the pack, seeming content as of late, to stand by Cora’s side. They made a fearful team – especially with Malia, and later Hayden, following closely behind.

Everyone pitied the fools who thought four beautiful women getting drunk in the town’s bar was an indication they might get lucky. It’d only happened twice before word spread and everyone gave them wide berth.

If Cora needed a little action, she approached her prey. Although the town was currently whispering about a certain vampire from a pack outside town whom it seemed had the balls to approach The Fearsome Foursome and remain standing.

Braeden and Malia watched the unfolding romance with much humour. Hayden constantly shook her head in disgust, but their views were things they’d never voice or reveal to the pack enforcer, however. They liked their spleens just where they were.

Surprisingly, Derek had returned to school, this time to study counselling. And was already the one pack members were approaching for advice, especially the younger ones. He made Laura proud, even if her heart was still broken by the loss of John Stilinski.

++++++

The Stanford Pack had yet to actually return to Stanford.

In fact, the Hale kitchen in Beacon Hills was often filled with all kinds of pack and no one was questioning these new pack bonds that were starting to link them all.

One night, about a month into their extended stay in Beacon Hills, Boyd drew their Alpha into a closed door meeting. They had a few things to discuss. There were raised voices, tears, hugs, apologies, and all cards were put on the table. By the time the library doors opened almost four hours later, every supernatural on the Hale lands could feel a tightening of the pack’s bonds, a blending of the two Hale Alphas.

Peter would eventually need to sort out the leadership issues with Laura, but it seemed his pack was there to stay. They were home.

If only Stiles would wake. He needed his mate.

++++++

Boyd discussed the new situation with his boss and they were more than willing to work remotely – it was something they’d done before. They were unwilling to lose their best man to competition, so compromises were struck. He set up his own operation in BH and contracted out his services to his old company, and acted as a liaison for new business this side of Cali.

++++++

Erica handed in her resignation, and decided to take some time with Evie before returning to work. Their cub had been through a lot, and they had enough savings that she could comfortably not worry about work for a while.

But to her surprise, when word spread through town that they were planting permanent roots in Beacon Hills, the offers started coming to her. The one she was really interested in, was a two-hour drive, but she’d put them on hold. Her family needed her right now and not even the lure of stomping someone into the ground beneath her legal stilettoes could derail her.

Six months. She gave herself six months before she’d even consider any offers. She laughed when she’d been told the two firms that had made her offers were already jostling over who would pitch for her once that six-month period was past.

++++++

Relocation for Chase was easier than anyone figured. He had already begun the process, and as long as he kept doing what he was doing to earn his clients the big returns, they could give a damn about where he was based.

Maria was a little more difficult. Stanford had been good for the antique and “specialty items” business. She didn’t know how Beacon Hills would fare, but Scott set her up with an acquaintance of his and they were already working on a website. She already did a lot of business by referrals, and if it was easier to find her online, she really didn’t need a big store, just orders and a place to store her merchandise. She was working on rebranding herself.

It also helped that Lydia was nearby. Nothing to convince a woman to pick up or set down roots than the love of her life.

++++++

Ethan applied for and secured a position at Beacon Hills College in the athletics department. It wasn’t as high profile or lucrative a change, but there was something about the pace of the community that settled into his bones. He liked it here.

Plus girls would be girls and boys would be boys, no matter where you went. So the dating scene wasn’t all that bad either, if he kept it off campus.

++++++

Parrish snuck up behind him and curled his arms around Danny’s waist, and blew in Danny’s ear, just like he used to.

It was followed by a yelp and a solid hunch as the wolf’s elbow connected with his chin, snapping his head back. “Dammit, I told you that tickles, you ass hack!”

Parrish froze, as did the wolf.

Danny could hear the hound’s heart begin to thud; feel the vibration against his back. Parrish barely wanted to breathe. “What did you call me?”

Danny turned slowly, until he was looking him dead in the eyes. “I said it tickles, you ass hack.” Parrish’s eyes went wide, and Danny said, “I used to call you that, didn’t I?”

“Only every time I did that. What do you remember?”

It was Danny’s turn to swallow his apprehension. “I don’t know, not much. It just . . . it just came out.”

Parrish nodded, he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but it was something and something was better than nothing. “How about some ice cream?”

Danny’s lip wobbled into a wry, shy smile that showed off the dimples that Parrish had long ago fallen in love with. “I’d love some.”

Things were far from Ok in the realm between Parrish and his father. His mother acted as mediator where she could, but both her men were stubborn, and it only became worse when Parrish found out about the deal his father had struck with the Fates, mediated by Hal – just as he suspected. And if sometimes it felt like Parrish was drowning in regrets too many to mention, well no one had to know.

++++++

Peter was lying with his ear pressed to Stiles’ chest, listening to him breathe. It was how he fell asleep every night and first thing he did every morning. It was the skip in that heartbeat that told him something was happening.

He raised his head and watched Stiles’ eyes blink open. For a moment they just stared at each other, and Peter felt the familiar thrum along the pack bond and a pull on their personal one. Without being asked, Peter reached for the nearby carafe and poured a glass of water, assisted Stiles in sitting up and watched as he took a long pull on the liquid, quenching his dry throat.

Along their bond, he heard the question Stiles wanted to ask. “Almost six weeks,” Peter responded. “You’ve been . . . like this . . . for almost six weeks.”

Stiles nodded and teared up. “Is he really gone?”

Peter swallow, heavily. “I’m so sorry.” He dragged Stiles into his arms as his partner sobbed his heart out.

The door to their room burst open, and Boyd, Erica with Evie, and Maria stood in the door. Stiles wiped a hand beneath his nose, looked at his pack and opened his arms to them. Within moments Evie was in his arms, nuzzling and scenting him with whiny little baby noises that conveyed her pain. The others were sitting on the bed, running hands over the various parts of him that they could reach.

“Ethan had an interview at the College and Chase is in town looking at office space,” Erica informed him.

He nodded. “What can we do?” Maria asked softly, rubbing a hand up and down his shin.

“You’re doing it. You’re here,” his voice hitched, “and alive. I don’t think I can handle any more losses right now. So just be here, for now.”

Peter kissed his temple and the pack pile continued for a while until an emotionally exhausted Stiles fell off to sleep again – this time the more natural kind.

++++++

The days that followed were hard. Stiles met with the Queen, with Hal, with other members of the Realm, anyone that he thought might have sway with the Fates themselves. Nothing worked.

He was sitting cross-legged and alone – at his own firm request – at the base of the Nemeton when he felt the power behind him.

“You’re a persistent one, young Prince,” a female voice said.

As he would have moved to get to his feet, a warm hand dropped to his shoulder and someone sat down beside him. She could have been about 40 or so, based solely on looks; a serene unblemished face, and long, white, bone-straight hair, wearing a light blue pants outfit with a billowing tunic. “My sisters and I thought we should have a chat.”

His eyes flew wide when his senses picked up just who was sitting beside him.

“I didn’t think the Fates visited this realm,” he choked out, skin heating with anxiety.

“Not normally. We haven’t for thousands of years, but it seems there’s this young man living here that won’t take no for an answer,” she said, gazing absently at the tree.

Stiles gulped. “He’s my dad . . . _was_ my dad.”

“Indeed,” she drawled. Then she exhaled, “Go ahead. Ask what you will.”

“Why?”

“Why, what? Be specific Breton. Be very specific.”

“Why did this happen, any of it? Why let _him_ do all this damage? Why not allow Queen Angelina to stop him? . . . Why my dad?”

“What do you know of the Fates?”

“That you decide . . . well the fate of everything.”

She was silent for a moment. “We calculate the odds; all the possible outcomes of every decision, especially the ones to do with life and death, with the future of the Abyss. But there are so many possibilities in between. If we interfered every time someone good died, where would it end? There is a cycle to life even we can’t meddle with. Even us three have someone to answer to.”

It shook Stiles. “Three? I thought there were two?”

She smiled enigmatically and when her head bowed, chin tilting toward chest, her platinum hair fell forward, obscuring part of her face. “Well now you know something few others do. Two of us are the faces of Fate. Our third, our sister is more . . . sensitive . . . I guess you could say, to things. So she’s not exposed to outside influences. She is the one who casts the deciding vote if we three cannot agree. She is the first born.”

“Salaman and Baptiste set a line in motion that it was not wise to interfere and with which we had little say. Your Queen and the Underworld were just as vulnerable to him as anyone else. If Angelina or Hal had come up against him the world you know would have changed, irrevocably. Both would have been changed in ways your world nor theirs was ready for.

“When the possible outcomes were assessed, the loss and reincarnation of your father was a risk that was acceptable, as hard as it was to bear.”

An unexpected and uncontrollable growl bubbled up and out of Stiles at her confession and his breath hitched.

“It is not an excuse, simply an explanation of fact.”

“So why not let me bring him back? Why’d I have to lose him?” he sobbed now.

“There’s no easy answer to that, but you have to let him go. Trust me, his next life will be even greater than this one. The universe has plans for him. He has a destiny yet to fulfil. You will meet again, under the right conditions; take comfort in that. It’s the only one I can offer. But I will have to insist that you stop this search of yours here. This is as far as you go with trying to bring him back, Mr. Stilinski.”

She turned and pinned him with a stare for the first time. “Please do not make me return to this realm, Mr. Stilinski. I can promise it will not be this pleasant next time.” Then her face lost a little of its austerity. “You are also going to be a blessing to this world and the one that follows it, if you stay focussed on the things that are crucial to its survival. We have high hopes for you – both of you. Don’t disappoint us.” Stiles knew the ‘both’ here included his mate.

With those last words and warnings, she stood elegantly and offered him a twisted smile and tilted her head at him as if she’d just got glimpse of something. Her smile turned into a short laugh. “All things being equal, it seems I will see you again, Breton. Have care.” And she vanished.

Stiles stood there, not sure when he’d got to his feet but his confused brain told him he was definitely standing. Moments later Peter burst through the trees, the Alpha looking around for the threat their bond had told him was there.

“Are you ok?” he asked in a rush.

“Yea. I was just saying goodbye to dad,” he walked to Peter, right into his arms and buried his face in his mate’s neck. “I think I want to take you somewhere,” Stiles said softly. Peter raised thick brows.

He needed to talk to Angelina. He had an idea about the survivors who were now displaced, maybe even Parrish and Danny, but he’d discuss it with Peter first. They disappeared from Earth, and when Peter’s feet touched ground again, it was a land he didn’t know.

“Where are we?”

“My home . . . or what used to be my ancestral home. This is High Rock.”

Peter looked at the rolling hills and plains with awe. “It’s beautiful.”

“I think,” he paused, looking over the land once more silently before continuing, “I think we can create something great here. Take all the bad we’ve suffered and make this place a sanctuary. I want to try, Peter.”

His mate looked at him, with equal awe, wonder and pride. He kissed him firmly, the brush of lips a comfort to them both. “Where do we start?”

And the Fates smiled. They were back on course.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what the update schedule is gonna be yet – perhaps weekly. So stay tuned. Let me know your thoughts.


End file.
